THE    LADY  OF    KINGDOMS 

INEZ      HAYNES      IRWIN 


FROM  THE  XLVII  CHAPTER  OF  ISAIAH 

5.  Sit  thou  silent,  and  get  thee  into  darkness,  O 
daughter  of  the  Chaldeans:  for  thou  shalt  no  more 
be  called,  The  lady  of  kingdoms. 

*  *  *  *  *  *  * 

8.  Therefore  hear  now  this,  thou  that  art  given  to 
pleasures,    that   dwellest    carelessly,    th. lf    sayest   in 
thine  heart,  I  am,  and  none  else  beside  mf  ;    I  shall 
not  sit  as  a  widow,  neither  shall  I  know  th^  loss  of 
children : 

9.  But  these  two  things  shall  come  to  thee  in  a" 
moment  in  one  day,  the  loss  of  children,  and  ividow- 
hood:  they  shall  come  upon  thee  in  their  perfection 
for  the  multitude  of  thy  sorceries,  and  for  the  great 
abundance  of  thine  enchantments. 

10.  For  thou  hast  trusted  in  thy  wickedness:  thou 
hast   said,   None   seeth   me.      Thy   wisdom   and   thy 
knowledge,  it  hath  perverted  thee;  and  thou  has  said 
in  thine  heart,  I  am,  and  none  else  beside  me. 

11.  Therefore    shall    evil    come   upon    thee;    thou 
shalt  not  know  from  whence  it  riseth:  and  mischief 
shall  fall  upon  thee;  thou  shalt  not  be  able  to  put 
it  off:  and  desolation  shall  come  upon  thee  suddenly, 
which  thou  shalt  not  know. 

12.  Stand  now  with  thine  enchantments,  and  icith 
the   multitude   of   thy  sorceries,   wherein   thou   hast 
laboured  from  thy  youth;  if  so  be  thou  shalt  be  able 
to  profit,  if  so  be  thou  mayest  prevail. 

13.  Thou   art    ivearied   in   the   multitude   of   thy 
counsels.    Let   now   the   astrologers,   the  stargazers, 
the    monthly    prognosticators,    stand    up,    and    save 
thee  from  these  things  that  shall  come  upon  thee. 

14.  Behold,  they  shall  be  as  stubble;  the  fire  shall 
burn  them;   they  shall  not  deliver  themselves  from 
the  power  of  the  flame:  there  shall  not  be  a  coal  to 
warm  at,  nor  fire  to  sit  before  it. 


THE 

LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 


BY 

INEZ   HAYNES   IRWIN 

AUTHOR  OF  "ANGEL  ISLAND."  ETC. 


NEW  YORK 
GEORGE  H.  DORAN  COMPANY 


Copyright,  1917,  by 
GEORGE  H    DORAN  COMPANY 


PRINTED    IN    THE    UNITED    STATES    OF    AMERICA 


TO  MY  BROTHERS 

HARRY,  GID,  WALTER 


2136522 


BOOK  ONE 


THE 
LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 


BOOK  ONE 
CHAPTER  I 

"  WELL,  you  can't  get  a  word  out  of  her,"  Mrs.  Wallis  said  in  an 
accent  compounded  equally  of  virtuous  disgust  and  balked  curi 
osity.  "  No  matter  what  you  say  to  her.  She  says  the  child's  hers, 
and  who  the  father  is  ain't  nobody  else's  business.  And  if  anybody 
thinks  they  can  go  do  any  better,  they've  got  my  permission  to  try." 

Mrs.  Wallis's  hard  sharp  black  eyes,  set  high  in  her  flat  toad-like 
head,  snapped  a  challenge  to  the  three  women  who  sat  about  the 
bed.  With  a  double  motion  that  was  habitual  to  her,  she  fluffed 
up  with  one  hand  her  mat  of  thickly-curled  artificial  hair  and 
pushed  down  with  the  other  a  perpetually  obtrusive  corset-steel. 
"  There  ain't  a  drop  of  shame  in  her  anywhere  as  far  as  I  can 
see,"  she  added  irritably,  turning  to  the  woman  who  lay  on  the  bed. 

Mrs.  Drake,  to  whom  Mrs.  Wallis  addressed  this  last  remark, 
emitted  nothing  beyond  a  nonplussed,  "  You  don't!  " 

"  Who'd  have  thought  Gert  Beebee  would  ever  come  to  this 
pass  ? " — Mrs.  Tubman  took  it  up.  Mrs.  Tubman  was  a  pasty, 
bulging,  fatly-shapeless  woman  with  one  fixed  dull  eye  and  one 
roving  bright  one.  "  Why,  I  used  to  think  she  was  a  real  clever 
little  girl." 

"  She  was,"  Mrs.  Drake  answered.  "  Smart  as  a  whip,  and 
bright  as  a  dollar."  She  added  after  a  pause,  "  Southward  always 
said  she  liked  her  better'n  most  any  girl  'cept  Hester  when  they 
was  in  school  together." 

No  one  replied  for  a  moment.  And  in  that  instant,  the  same 
expression  dropped  a  non-committal  curtain  over  the  features  of 
Mrs.  Drake's  guests. 

"  Well,  all  I've  got  to  say,"  Mrs.  Peters  decided  trenchantly,  "  is 

9 


10  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

that  her  smartness  didn't  do  her  a  mite  of  good  when  she  got  into 
trouble.  Smartness  don't  seem  to  be  much  help  then,  as  others  in 
this  town  may  find  out  before  it  is  too  late." 

Her  words  produced  a  little  shocked  flurry.  Mrs.  Drake  alone 
listened  placidly,  seemed  to  see  in  them  no  esoteric  meaning. 

Mrs.  Peters  was  a  long,  lean,  lank  woman  with  sandy  hair. 
Her  watery,  undecided  blue  eye,  her  blue-white  undecided  skin,  her 
irregular,  undecided  contour,  could  not  prepare  the  observer  for 
her  strident  roice  and  its  accent  of  vinegar.  She  had  a  way  of 
turning  her  eyes  towards  the  object  of  vision  but  not  her  face. 
Half  her  solemn  watery  gaze  had  in  that  case  to  scale  the  high 
bony  structure  of  her  nose. 

"Well,  I'm  awfully  sorry  for  her  for  one,"  said  Sue-Salome 
Hatch.  "  Libbie  and  I  have  always  liked  Gertie." 

Sue-Salome  was  a  spinster,  middle-aged  and  girlish  at  the  same 
time.  Her  method  of  arranging  her  hair — it  was  parted  in  the 
middle  and  drawn  sleekly  back  to  a  hard  round  knot  at  the  back — 
added  to  her  years ;  but  the  slim  trimness  of  her  figure  subtracted 
from  them.  There  was  something  spaniel-like  about  her.  Her 
broad-browed,  narrow-jawed  head  was  shaped  like  a  spaniel's.  Her 
brown  eyes  caught  on  things  with  the  quick  intelligence,  half- 
mischief,  half-interest,  of  the  spaniel's  glance.  Her  instinctire 
activity  flowed  at  every  move  into  the  spaniel's  wriggling  swift 
ness.  She  was  different  from  the  other  women  in  that  her  air 
suggested  an  unappeasable  joy  in  life. 

"Libbie  still  with  her?"  Mrs.  Wallis  asked. 

(<  ".°k>  yes'  she'U  be  there  a  week  longer,"  Sue-Salome  replied. 
"Libbie  says  Gertie's  as  easy  to  take  care  of— and  she  loves  the 
baby  to  death.  Well,  it  is  a  lovely  baby — so  healthy  and  good." 

"  Well,  now,  I  suppose,"  Mrs.  Drake  said  regretfully,  "  Gertie'll 
go  the  way  Josie  Caldwell  did." 

Mrs.  Drake  lay  in  the  compelled  quiet  of  a  partial  paralysis  on 
a  big  bed  that  filled  one  corner  of  the  chamber.  Her  invalid 
presence  explained  the  odour  in  the  air,  the  unanalysable,  intangi 
ble,  inevitable  odour  of  sickness — made  up  of  many  components- 
innumerable  medicines,  perpetual  hot  water,  the  staleness  of  rooms 
too  little  aired  and  carpets  too  seldom  swept.  That  odour  seemed 
an  appropriate  emanation  of  the  musty  mid-Victorianism  which 
surrounded^her;  it  was  accented  by  the  heat  of  the  August  day. 
The  room  in  which  she  lay,  though  a  later  annex  to  the  colonial 
main  house,  had  duplicated  carefully  its  fine  colonial  lines.  But 
its  ceiling  was  stained,  its  paper  discoloured.  A  faded  carpet, 
over  which  sprawled  Brobdignagian  roses,  covered  the  good,  wide- 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  11 

boarded,  old  floor.  The  black  walnut  set,  painted  a  glaring  blue, 
concealed  with  its  mammoth  massive  bulks  the  airy  elegance  of 
the  wood-work.  The  wide  old  mirror  over  the  mantel  would  have 
offered  the  eye  an  escape  from  ugliness  if  a  row  of  medicine 
bottles  on  the  high  narrow  shelf  had  not  balked  it.  In  two 
directions  only  lay  beauty — at  the  window  where  the  phlox  filed, 
white,  pink,  lavender,  and  purple,  and  through  the  door  where 
nasturtiums  and  dahlias  herded,  orange  and  gold  and  crimson. 
Beyond  lay  trees  massed  to  a  dense  greenness;  above  a  stretch  of 
blue  sky. 

After  many  years  during  which  she  had  lain  abed,  Mrs.  Drake 
was  big  and  shapeless;  hut  she  was  handsomely  coloured  for  a  sick 
woman.  Curiously  enough,  she  contrasted  to  her  advantage  with 
the  women  who  sat  ?.bout  her.  Her  head  supported  great  coils  of 
hair,  the  colour  of  hemp.  Her  cheeks  retained  twin-blooms  of 
such  a  patchy  vividness  that  they  stood  out  like  paint.  Her  eyes, 
set  under  dark  lashes  and  brows,  were  as  clear  and  unwinking 
as  blue  glass.  Whatever  the  change  in  her  mood,  her  colour 
neither  deepened  nor  lessened,  her  eyes  neither  dimmed  nor 
brightened,  her  brows  neither  lifted  nor  folded.  When  she  spoke, 
only  her  lips  moved.  That  was  why,  perhaps,  her  skin  showed 
a  wrinkle  nowhere. 

"  I  must  confess  it  was  the  greatest  surprise  to  me  when  Josie 
Caldwell  went  wrong,"  said  Sue-Salome.  "  She  was  such  an 
independent  piece,  so  top-lofty.  I'd  never  have  thought  it  was 
in  her  to  be  bad.  Why,  when  she  used  to  come  back  from 
New  York  with  all  those  beautiful  clothes  and  jewelry,  I 

swallowed  her  stories  down  as  easy  as It  never  entered  my 

mind." 

"  Well,  it  entered  mine,"  said  Mrs.  Wallis  with  a  stinging 
emphasis.  u  Sue-Salome,  you  uster  say  to  me,  '  I  can't  explain 
it.  I  don't  understand  it.'  And  I  uster  say  to  you,  '  Well,  I  can 
explain  it,'  s'l,  '  perfectly  easy,'  s'l,  '  in  words  of  one  syllable 
and  all  the  nouns  beginning  with  capital  letters/  s'l.  '  It's  as 
plain  to  me  as  the  nose  on  your  face,'  s'l." 

"  Gert  says  she's  going  to  stay  right  along  in  this  town,"  Mrs. 
Tubman  put  in,  "  although  she  does  say  it  all  depends  on  how 
they  treat  her  here.  If  they  ain't  decent  to  her  and  the  child, 
she'll  get  out.  She  says  she  can  earn  her  keep  and  the  baby's 
keep  anywhere." 

"  I  guess  she  can  too,"  Mrs.  Peters  admitted  reluctantly.  "  She's 
as  strong  as  an  ox.  She  got  up  yesterday,  you  know.  They  tried 
to  keep  her  in  bed  but  they  couldn't.  When  Dr.  Allen  came,  he 


12  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

just  laughed.  He  told  me  that  she  and  the  child  were  the  healthiest 
specimens  he'd  handled  in  this  town  for  one  while." 

"  I'd  hate  to  have  her  leave,"  Mrs.  Tubman  said  dubiously. 
"  She's  the  only  woman  you  can  get  in  this  town  to  work.  She's 
neat  as  wax  and  you  don't  have  to  keep  after  her.  She  don't 
charge  all  creation  either." 

"  Yes,  she  often  does  up  shirt-waists  for  Southward,"  Mrs. 
Drake  said  placidly.  "  They  look  handsome,  I  tell  you." 

Mrs.  Wallis  bristled.  "  Well,  she  won't  do  anything  for  me," 
she  declared. 

"  She  does  for  Flora  sometimes,"  Mrs.  Tubman  remarked. 

"  Why,  Pearl's  almost  got  down  on  her  bended  knees  to  her," 
Mrs.  Wallis  went  on  indignantly. 

"  How  is  Flora  ? "  Mrs.  Drake  interposed,  turning  her  head 
and  the  conversation  in  Mrs.  Tubman's  direction. 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  Mrs.  Tubman  returned.  "  Pretty  busy, 
though." 

"  I  s'pose  so,"  Mrs.  Drake  commented  approvingly.  "  Sewing 
all  the  time,  ain't  she  ?  " 

"  Pretty  much,"  Mrs.  Tubman  admitted.  "  She's  awful  par 
ticular.  If  I  didn't  watch  her,  she'd  hemstitch  her  dish- 
towels." 

"  The  Curtises  tickled  to  death  over  it,  I  suppose,"  Mrs.  Drake 
went  on. 

"  They  seem  to  be,"  Mrs.  Tubman  answered,  a  subtle  suggestion 
of  antagonism  in  her  manner. 

"  Well,  Esther'll  soon  be  coming  along  to  have  beaux,"  Mrs. 
Drake  said,  "  and  then  the  twins.  Ain't  it  queer  you  never  had 
nothing  but  girls?  But  I  guess  you  ain't  had  no  time  to  miss 
the  boys." 

"  I  guess  I  ain't,"  Mrs.  Tubman  said  with  conviction. 

"  How's  Pearl?  "  Mrs.  Drake  now  directed  her  unwinking  blue- 
marble  gaze  at  Mrs.  Wallis. 

"  Oh,  very  well,"  Mrs.  Wallis  answered. 

"  She  and  Lysander  going  to  make  a  match  of  it  some  day  ? " 
Mrs.  Drake  suggested. 

Mrs.  Wallis's  hard,  malicious  mask  froze.  "  I  don't  know  as 
Pearl  would  have  Lysander,"  she  said  smoothly. 

"  Well,  she  could  go  a  long  way  and  not  do  better,"  Mrs.  Drake 
said  judicially.  "  Lysander  is  a  likely  young  feller.  I  wish 
Southward  had  taken  a  shine  to  him." 

Mrs.  Wallis  bit  her  lips — perhaps  to  prevent  words  from  snapping 
out  of  them. 


THE  LADY  -0$  KINGDOMS  13 

"Pearl's  an  all-fired  smart  girl,"  Mrs.  Drake  went  on,  "but, 
land,  all  your  children  are  smart — six  of  them.  Lord,  what  a 
tableful ! " 

"  You'd  think  so  if  you  had  to  do  the  cooking,"  Mrs.  Wallis 
said  with  an  appearance  of  impersonal  indignation. 

"  I  suppose  Pinkie  and  Thode  Snow  are  still  keeping  company." 
Mrs.  Drake  turned  to  Mrs.  Peters. 

"  Well,  he's  there  every  night  if  that's  what  you  mean,"  Mrs. 
Peters  answered,  looking  over  her  nose  at  her  interlocutor. 

"  Pinkie's  a  nice  pretty  girl,"  Mrs.  Drake  said  heartily.  "  They're 
all  pretty  girls.  I'd  admire  some  night  to  go  to  the  Library  and 
see  them  dancing  those  new  dances.  I  guess ' 

"  Excuse  me,  Mis'  Drake,"  interrupted  Mrs.  Wallis,  "  but  there's 
a  carriage  just  stopped  outside — drove  up  the  South  Lane.  Was 
you  expecting  any  company  ? " 

At  once  conversation  ceased.  The  four  visitors  turned  in  their 
seats  and  craned  towards  the  window. 

"  No,"  Mrs.  Drake  said  placidly.  "  I  wasn't.  It's  probably 
Southward." 

"Oh,"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Wallis  in  surprised  tone.  "That  so?  I 
didn't  think  she  was  coming  until  next  week.  Yes,  it's- Southward 
gitting  out." 

"  I'm  glad  she's  come,"  Mrs.  Drake  said  in  a  relieved  tone.  "  I 
certainly  do  miss  Southward  when  she  goes  anywhere." 

The  other  women  did  not  speak,  but  a  wave  of  uneasiness  rolled 
through  the  room.  They  straightened  themselves  in  their  chairs, 
rearranged  the  folds  of  their  skirts,  patted  their  hair  into  place, 
stole  surreptitious  glances  into  near-by  reflecting  surfaces.  Warn 
ings  shot  from  eye  to  eye. 

The  sound  of  footsteps,  rapid  and  light  on  the  stones  outside, 
came  through  the  open  door.  In  an  instant  there  started  the 
joyous  barking  of  a  pair  of  dogs.  The  footsteps  stopped  an 
instant.  A  voice — clear,  decided,  boyish  in  effect — called,  "  Hullo, 
Buff!  Hullo,  Maida !  Down,  boy!  Down,  girl!  Down,  I  say! 
Yes,  I  know  you're  glad  to  see  me.  What  did  I  say?  I  said 
'  DOWN  ! '  "  The  voice  went  on. 

"  You  never  saw  how  crazy  those  dogs  are  about  Southward !  " 
Mrs.  Drake  commented  admiringly.  "  They  love  her  just  the  way 
they  love  a  man.  Gen'ally  they're  fonder  of  men-folks.  But  land, 
I  don't  wonder  they  take  to  her  so.  She  loves  them  and  they 
sense  it.  There  ain't  nothing  so  knowing  as  a  critter.  Southward 
washes  them  and  feeds  them  when  they're  sick.  I've  known  her 
to  sit  up  all  night  with  a  dying  dog.  All  the  critters  take  to  her. 


14  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

I  tell  her  sometimes  she's  a  critter  herself.  My  sister  Sabry  was 
clever  with  animals  too — she  was  allus  making  of  them." 

No  one  of  her  four  guests  made  answer.  Obviously  they  did 
not  hear.  Obviously  they  were  watching,  waiting,  though  furtively. 
Outside  the  voice  went  on,  talking  to  the  dogs.  Inside  Mrs.  Drake 
took  up  her  comment  again. 

"  But  then  again,  Southward's  just  like  a  man  in  a  lot  of  ways. 
When  old  Bess  came  to  git  so  old  and  helpless  that  we  had  to  help 
lift  her  onto  her  feet  when  she'd  laid  down,  and  crying  all  the 
time,  Nathaniel  wouldn't  kill  her — well,  Southward,  she  took 
her  out  in  the  woods  and  shot  her  and  buried  her.  Didn't  come 
home  for  hours  though.  Land,  she  ain't  no  more  afraid  of  a 
gun!  Used  to  practise  out  behind  the  house  with  a  pistol  until 
she  could  shoot  just  as  good  as  a  man." 

Again  nobody  spoke.  Mrs.  Drake's  monologue  tapered  to  silence. 
Outside  the  barking  had  stopped.  The  voice  stopped.  The  quick 
light  footsteps  started  again,  came  nearer.  A  girl's  form,  ath 
letically  slim,  outlined  itself  against  the  screen.  A  girl's  hand, 
slimly  brown,  came  to  the  knob.  The  door  opened  quickly,  letting 
in  a  wave  of  hot  air,  loaded  with  the  smell,  acrid  and  penetrating, 
of  box  with  other  odours,  spicy  and  sweet,  of  mid-summer  flowers. 
The  door  shut  hard;  the  phlox  at  the  window  nodded  with  the 
concussion. 

The  girl,  carrying  a  suit-case,  stepped  into  the  room.  She  was 
dark,  vivid,  handsome,  at  that  instant  brilliantly  smiling.  She 
stopped  short. 

"  Well,  hullo !  "  Her  voice  rang,  but  with  surprise  rather  than 
pleasure.  "  Good  afternoon,  ladies."  She  set  the  suit-case  down. 
Her  brilliant  smile  faded  to  a  composed  impassivity.  "  This  is  a 
regular  party,  isn't  it  ?  Hullo,  grandmother  1  "  she  darted  to  the 
bed  and  kissed  Mrs.  Drake.  "  Hullo,  Sue-Salome."  She  drew 
off  a  loose  pongee  coat,  threw  it  over  the  chair,  drew  a  pin  from 
her  trim  Panama  hat,  swept  off  the  hat,  stabbed  it  with  a  quick, 
clean  stroke  of  the  pin,  tossed  it  on  a  table  half-way  across  the 
room ;  drew  off  her  long  chamois  gloves,  tossed  them  with  absolute 
accuracy  after  the  hat;  all  this  seemed  one  motion.  Then  she 
turned  to  the  mirror  and,'  admirably  quiet,  stood  tucking  stray 
locks  into  a  main  mass  of  sleek,  straight,  blue-black  hair  that, 
confined  by  a  net,  followed  the  outline  of  her  head  as  close  as 
a  helmet.  She  talked  busily  all  the  time. 

"  My  eye  but  it's  hot !  And  the  dust !  Knee-deep  on  the  road 
to  the  station.  I've  eaten  my  pint  of  dirt  to-day." 

Her  grandmother's  guests  responded  with  subdued  murmurs  of 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  15 

greeting  which  were  immediately  evaporated  into  silence  by  her 
own  airy  monologue.  "  Lysander  bring  you,  Southward?"  Mrs. 
Wallis  managed  to  drag  out  of  the  confusion. 

"  Yes,"  Southward  answered,  in  a  tone  whose  casual  languor 
was  more  non-committal  than  a  direct  snub.  "  Everything  been 
all  right,  grandmother?"  She  darted  to  the  bed  again  and  leaned 
over  Mrs.  Drake,  smiling  affectionately  down  on  her. 

"  Yes — 'cept  I  missed  you  dreadfully,"  Mrs.  Drake  answered. 

Southward  patted  her  cheek,  turned  away. 

In  repose,  she  was  like  a  leashed  dog;  her  slim  body  seemed  to 
thrill  and  vibrate.  In  motion,  she  was  quicksilver;  she  accom 
plished  everything  with  the  minimum  of  effort  and  the  maximum 
of  speed  and  noise.  At  all  times,  energy  and  vitality  seemed  to 
pour  from  her.  And  now,  gradually,  she  flooded  the  whole  room 
with  the  tingling  emanation  of  her  spirit.  The  dull,  dead  air 
became  high-coloured,  illuminate,  electrified. 

The  four  guests,  hostile  but  fascinated,  followed  every  move. 

"  How  are  the  Oldtown  folks,  Southward  ? "  Mrs.  Tubman  asked. 

"  All  right.    Same  as  usual,"  Southward  answered  carelessly. 

"Hear  about  Gert  Beebee  before  you  left,  Southward?"  Mrs. 
Peters  questioned. 

"  Oh,  yes."  Southward  paused  in  a  dash  to  the  dining-room. 
"  Boy,  was  it?  Or  was  it  a  girl?  " 

"  Boy,"  Mrs.  Peters  responded. 

"  How  is  Gert  ?  "  Southward  inquired. 

"  All  right/'  Mrs.  Peters  answered.  "  Not  a  word  out  of  her 
yet  though  about  the  father.  And  nobody  can  make  her  tell. 
Why  don't  you  see  if  you  can  get  her  to  talk,  Southward  ? " 

"  Because  I  don't  think  it's  any  of  my  business,"  Southward 
replied  coolly.  "  If  Gert  wants  to  tell  us,  why  it's  all  right.  If  not, 
it's  none  of  our  affair.  It's  all  up  to  her." 

"  Why,  Southward,  I  don't  agree  with  you  at  all,"  Mrs.  Wallis 
said  with  quiet  renom.  "  It  ain't  proper  that  such  things  should 
be  going  on  in  this  town,  and  us  not  knowing  about  it  and  not 
doing  anything  about  it." 

"  Well,  they  seem  to  have  been  going  on  for  many  years,"  South 
ward  answered  with  composure,  "  considering  the  illegitimate  brats 
here.  How  are  you  to  prevent  it?  Chaperone  every  girl  in 
Shaynef  ord  or  ask  Shaynef  ord  people  to  live  in  glass  house-  ? " 

"  You  know  that  ain't  what  I  mean,  Southward,"  Mrs.  Wallis 
said.  "  If  we  knew  who  the  man  was,  we  could  make  i  t  hot  for 
him.  We  might  even  prevail  on  him  to  marry  her." 

"  Perhaps  Gert  doesn't  want  him  to  marry  her,"  Southward  said, 


16  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

a  glimmer  of  mirth  in  her  dark  eyes.  "  If  it's  one  of  those  men 
we'd  be  most  likely  to  suspect,  perhaps  she'd  rather  sidestep  it. 
I'm  sure  I  would.  As  it  is  now,  Gert'll  only  have  the  baby  and 
herself  to  support.  If  she  married  any  of  the  Shayneford  loafers, 
why  she'd  have  him  to  support  in  addition.  No,  I  think  you  can 
depend  on  Gert  to  run  her  own  affairs.  She's  no  fool.  For  my 
part,  I  don't  think  it  was  a  Shayneford  man.  I  give  Gert  credit 
for  better  taste." 

There  was  an  interval  of  tense  silence.  Mrs.  Drake,  placidly 
oblivious  of  the  social  crisis,  awaited  the  next  remark.  Southward, 
moving  swiftly  about,  putting  her  things  away,  straightening  the 
room  here  and  there,  whistled  through  her  teeth  as  though  she 
were  alone. 

"  You  going  to  the  bazaar,  Southward  ? "  Mrs.  Peters  asked 
finally. 

"  Yes.  Libbie  asked  me  to  take  a  table  and  I  said  I  would. 
No,  it's  the  fishing-pond — come  to  think  of  it." 

"  Well,  girls,"  Mrs.  Wallis  said.  "  I've  got  to  be  going.  It 
must  be  after  five.  What  train  d'you  get,  Southward?  The 
three?" 

"  Yes."  Southward  consulted  a  little  wrist-watch.  "  It's  half- 
past  five,"  she  said. 

"  Mercy  me,"  Mrs.  Tubman  exclaimed.  Her  roving  eye  sent  a 
scuttling  glance  about  the  room  and  her  dull  eye  grew  opaque.  "  7 
hope  Flora's  remembered  to  put  some  water  on  to  boil.  Well, 
I  must  be  going." 

This  sentiment  was  promptly  re-echoed  by  the  other  four.  They 
collected  hats  and  wraps.  They  said  cordial  good-byes  to  Mrs. 
Drake  and  reserved  ones  to  Southward.  Southward  held  the 
screen-door  open  for  them.  They  retreated  down  the  path  between 
the  dahlias  and  the  nasturtiums,  emitting  a  cautious  comment 
now  and  then.  As  they  turned  into  South  Lane  and  disappeared 
under  the  tunnel  of  its  trees,  conversation  broke  with  a  gush. 

"  Cats !  "  Southward  commented  cheerfully,  turning  to  her  grand 
mother. 

"  Southward,"  Mrs.  Drake  said  seriously,  "  sometimes  I  don't 
think  Mis'  Wallis  likes  you." 

Southward  laughed.  "  LiJcest  me,  grandmother.  She  hates  me. 
They  all  do.  Any  one  of  them  would  boil  me  alive.  They're 
having  the  time  of  their  life  now,  ripping  me  up  the  back — all 
except  Sue-Salome  of  course.  I'm  so  glad  I  happened  to  have  my 
new  waist  on.  It  will  give  them  something  to  start  with." 

Mrs.   Drake's  eyes  moved  appraisingly  over  Southward's  slim 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  17 

figure.  Her  gaze  dwelt  on  the  new  waist  with  appreciation  of  the 
workmanship,  with  dissatisfaction  as  she  noted  the  elaboration  of 
tucks  and  insertion. 

"  Get  that  in  Oldtown  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  Yes,"  Southward  answered,  "  they  had  a  sale  at  the  hotel — a 
New  York  firm.  How  do  you  like  it  ?  " 

"  It'll  be  hard  to  do  up,"  Mrs.  Drake  commented. 

"  Yes,  I  suppose  it  will,"  Southward  agreed  indifferently,  "  but 
you  know,  grandmother,  I  never  object  to  ironing  my  own  waists." 

"  Hullo,  Southward ! "  a  voice  interrupted  from  the  other  room. 
It  was  a  man's  voice.  Steadily  advancing,  it  continued :  "  I  saw 
you  drive  up  but  I  wouldn't  come  in  as  long  as  the  women-folks 
were  having  their  pow-wow.  Such  a  cackling!  I  couldn't 
hear  myself  think !  I  too'c  the  noospapers  and  went  into  the 
parlour." 

The  owner  of  the  voice  appeared  in  the  doorway  and  stood  there 
smiling  sardonically.  He  was  old.  He  was  striking.  Once  he 
must  have  been  tall.  Once  he  must  have  been  enormous.  Now 
his  figure  was  bent  almost  double  with  continual  cramp.  Yet 
broken  as  he  was,  he  seemed  a  gorilla  for  strength  and  he  was 
still  handsome.  He  looked  Southward's  kin. 

Southward  ran  to  meet  him,  kissed  him  affectionately.  "  It  was 
a  specially  successful  session,  Cap'n,  as  far  as  I  could  gather. 
They  were  pulling  poor  Gert  Beebee  to  pieces." 

Mr.  Drake  emitted  a  short  ironic  laugh.  "  It'll  kill  Sarah  Wallis 
if  she  don't  find  out  who  the  man  is  soon.  She  never  came  up 
against  such  a  proposition  as  this.  Why,  I  remember " 

"  Hullo,  Southward !  "  another  voice  interrupted  from  the  other 
room. 

"  Hullo,  Charlotte !  "  Southward  answered. 

"  Dinner's  ready !  "  the  voice  went  on.  It  was  a  woman's  voice 
and  it  was  retreating. 

Still  talking  busily  with  her  grandfather,  Southward  followed 
the  voice  into  the  dining-room,  sat  down  with  him  at  a  table 
laid  for  three.  "  I  thought  I'd  get  you  in  here,"  the  voice  con 
tinued,  "  and  then  I'd  dish  out  the  corn,  so's  to  be  sure  to  have 
it  served  hot.  Got  hot  biscuits,"  it  added. 

"  You're  a  darling,  Charlotte,"  Southward  answered,  in  a  voice 
uncharacteristically  warm  and  tender.  "  I  hope  you  calculated  on 
my  appetite,  coming  from  Oldtown.  Six  ears  of  corn  and  a  dozen 
hot  biscuits  at  least,  I  should  say." 

"  Oh,  I  callulated,"  the  voice  replied.  "  Here  we  be !  "  it  added 
in  another  instant.  Its  owner  appeared  in  the  kitchen  doorway, 


18  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

a  dish  of  hot  corn  steaming  in  one  hand  and  a  dish  of  hot  biscuits 
steaming  in  the  other. 

She  was  a  tall,  flat  woman  blackly  dark.  It  was  apparent  that 
she  was  blind  or  nearly  so;  the  stigmata  of  her  malady  made 
smoky  blurs  over  her  bulging,  black,  beetle-like  eyes. 

She  walked  with  extraordinary  straightness  and  precision  con 
sidering  her  blindness.  Now,  with  the  same  accuracy,  she  put 
down  the  two  dishes,  pulled  the  third  chair  from  the  table,  and 
seated  herself.  Southward  kissed  her  cheek. 

Mr.  Drake  reached  across  the  table  and  helped  himself  to  an 
ear  of  corn.  He  slapped  a  square  of  butter  on  it,  salted  it,  and 
began  to  gnaw.  "  There  are  two  young  fellows  come  down  here 
since  you  went  away,  Southward,"  he  said.  "  Camping — other 
side  of  Long  Pond." 

"  Are  there  ? "  Southward  asked  languidly.  She  helped  herself 
to  the  corn,  but  although  she  ate  from  the  cob,  she  handed  it 
delicately,  as  though  it  were  blown  glass. 

"  Yes — got  here  Saturday  night — using  the  Snow  camp — put  up 
two  tents — expecting  two  more  fellows  later — don't  know  what  they 
need  so  many  places  for,  though."  Mr.  Drake's  chawings  made 
dashes  between  his  phrases.  "  One  big  tent  and  one  small  one — 
Lysander  helped  them  get  settled — pretty  ship-shape  over  there 
now — Lysander  was  saying.  Going  to  stay  a  month." 

"  A  month,"  Southward  repeated  languidly.  "  Curious  Lysander 
didn't  mention  it  to  me.  Come  to  think  of  it  though,  I  talked 
all  the  time."  In  spite  of  her  boast  of  an  appetite,  her  move 
ments  were  uninterested.  Occasionally  she  buttered  and  salted 
her  corn  with  her  characteristic  clean  precision  of  movement. 
But  every  time  she  glanced  at  her  grandfather,  who  chewed  audibly 
and  visibly,  a  vertical  frown  drew  her  brows  to  level  black  lines. 
Immediately  she  would  straighten,  would  adjust  her  corn-cob  to 
even  greater  delicacy  of  position.  Her  fingers  spread  over  its  end 
like  the  pink-tipped  tendrils  of  a  vine,  but  they  held  it  tight. 
She  nibbled  prettily. 

It  was  extraordinary  how  much  alike  they  were  as  they  sat 
there — Southward  and  her  grandfather — despite  the  difference  in 
their  ages.  Southward's  clean-cut,  hawk-like  profile  was  not  more 
regular  than  her  grandfather's,  although  she  was  twenty-five  and 
he  seventy-five;  nor  was  his  more  vigorous  than  hers,  although 
he  was  a  man  and  she  a  woman.  His  profile  sank  soon  into  the 
volume  of  his  long,  white,  cleanly-flowing  beard.  The  boldly- 
chiselled  nose  predicated  in  his  case  a  masculine  translation  of 
the  delicious  squareness  of  Southward's  lower  lip,  the  virile  square- 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  19 

ness  of  her  chin.  And  Southward's  brow,  from  which  the  thick 
black  hair  swept  cleanly  away,  seemed  to  promise  a  duplicate  under 
the  long  white  locks  that  covered  Mr.  Drake's  temples.  The 
fire  of  a  youthful  enthusiasm  glowed  in  both  pairs  of  eyes;  and 
although  his  were  blue  and  hers  black,  they  had  the  same  straight- 
lashed  directness  of  gaze,  the  same  wide-open  clarity.  Mr.  Drake 
was  an  arresting  old  man  and  Southward  was  a  compelling  young 
woman.  But  Southward's  figure  was  comely.  In  addition  she 
was  brilliantly-coloured  in  the  tints  of  youth  and  summer. 

It  was  an  hour  when,  to  the  most  sensitive  perception,  Long 
Lanes  must  seem  charged  with  a  tragic  melancholy.  The  sun  was 
rolling  rapidly  down  the  sky  into  the  woods  in  front.  Its  light 
flooded  through  the  windows  and  doors.  But  it  was  not  bright, 
it  was  light  that  would  soon  become  shadow.  It  gathered  in 
blood-coloured  pools  under  the  furniture,  fell  in  blood-coloured 
spots  on  the  table,  spattered  in  blood-coloured  splotches  upon  the 
wall.  It  set  ruby  patches  in  Nathaniel  Drake's  white  hair  and 
beard.  It  burnished  Southward's  jet-coloured  hair;  it  seemed  to 
bring  out  in  it  underlying  ripples  of  red.  It  added  to  the 
melancholy  that  in  this  fiery  glow  the  rooms  showed  all  the 
ravages  of  careless  housekeeping. 

"  Bring  in  some  more  corn,  Charlotte."  Mr.  Drake  took 
the  last  ear  on  the  plate.  "  Yes,  Lysander  was  saying  one  of 
them  fellers  is  named  Cameron  and  the  other  Smith.  Lysander 
didn't  know  their  first  names.  I'll  find  out  in  the  Post  Office 
to-night.  But  of  course  you'll  get  to  know  them.  Then  I  s'pose 
they'll  all  be  orer  here,  underfoot  from  morning  till  night." 

Southward  did  not  reply.  But  an  amused  smile  rippled  her 
brilliant  lips,  glimmered  in  the  depths  of  her  blue-and-black  eyes. 

"  Sue-Salome  was  saying  to-day  that  they'd  come  from  New 
York  City."  Charlotte  emerged  from  the  kitchen  with  another 
dish  of  corn,  steaming  between  her  hands. 

"New  York!"  Southward  repeated  electrically.  She  dropped 
her  corn,  put  down  her  napkin,  and  pushed  away  from  the  table, 
all  in  one  movement.  She  stared  off  into  the  distance.  The  other 
two  went  on  audibly  gnawing. 

After  a  moment,  Mr.  Drake  answered  the  question  in  her  voice. 
"  Yes,  they're  all  from  New  York,  Lysander  said.  Sort  of  high 
brows  too."  Southward  made  no  comment.  He  went  on  talking 
with  Charlotte,  rehearsing  other  Shayneford  gossip  and  making 
his  own  shrewd  comments  thereupon.  From  time  to  time,  Char 
lotte  inserted  a  remark  or  asked  a  question.  Southward  answered 
at  random  the  queries  they  put  to  her. 


20  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Presently  she  arose  from  the  table  and  went  to  the  window. 
She  leaned  her  head  against  one  hand  and  drummed  on  the  glass 
with  the  other.  Charlotte's  face  puckered  sensitively  under  the 
nervous  irritation  of  this  noise.  But  it  was  evident  that  South 
ward  herself  did  not  hear  it.  Her  eyes  looked  straight  ahead  to 
the  point  where  the  sun  blared  in  a  sheet  of  red  flame  through 
the  pines.  And  it  was  evident  that  she  did  not  see  that.  The 
glare  hurt  her  eyes  as  little  as  the  noise  her  ears.  Her  face 
had  changed.  Under  its  cool  boyish  insouciance,  something 
stirred — an  emotion  stronger  than  mere  interest — something  more 
intense,  alert,  almost  predatory. 

"  Come  in  and  talk  with  grandmother,"  she  said  when  Mr.  Drake 
had  finished  his  supper. 

"  Oh,  that  reminds  me,"  said  Charlotte.  "  Sue-Salome  wanted 
I  should  tell  you  that  Hester  Crowell  was  coming  over  to-night. 
How'd  she  know  you'd  be  at  home  ? " 

"  I  wrote  her,"  Southward  answered  over  her  shoulder.  With 
a  return  of  her  characteristic  buoyant  air,  she  followed  her  grand 
father's  painful  hobble  through  the  parlour  into  the  chamber. 

"  How'd  the  corn  taste,  mother?"  Mr.  Drake  inquired. 

"  It  tasted  moreish,  Nathaniel,"  Mrs.  Drake  replied.  "  What's 
Hester  coming  over  for?  "  she  asked  Southward. 

"  Oh,  nothing  in  particular,"  Southward  asserted  indifferently. 
"  Just  to  talk." 

"  Mis'  Crowell  busy  as  usual,  I  suppose  ? " 

"  I  suppose  so,  grandmother,"  Southward  responded,  a  little  im 
patience  in  her  voice  now.  "  Of  course  I  haven't  seen  anybody  in 
Shayneford  for  a  week." 

"  Of  course,"  Mrs.  Drake  agreed  with  her  customary  placidity. 
"  She's  a  smart  woman,  Mis'  Crowell,"  she  said  admiringly. 

"  Yes,  and  a  terrible  one,"  Southward  added  with  a  sudden 
fierceness.  "  I  hate  her.  She  makes  Hester's  life  a  hell,  I  tell 
you." 

Charlotte  came  into  the  room  at  this  moment,  carrying  a  lamp. 
She  made  a  straight  line  for  the  table,  placed  it  accurately  in 
the  centre,  turned  the  wick  slowly  up.  For  an  instant  the  strong 
glare  changed  her  face  to  a  putty  mask  with  holes  for  shadows. 
Then  as  though  by  instinct,  she  turned  it  down  to  a  steady  glow. 
Her  face  became  human  again.  The  grotesque  shadows  in  the 
corners  of  the  big  room  scurried  up  the  walls  to  the  ceiling, 
vanished  in  the  final  flood  of  steady  light. 

The  three  elders  engaged  in  a  conversation  from  which  Mr. 
Drake  gradually  retreated  to  his  paper.  Southward  remained 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  21 

silent.  Her  eyes  wandered.  From  where  she  sat  she  could  get 
a  glimpse  of  half  of  the  lower  floor  of  the  big  house. 

First  came  the  chamber  where  lingered  always  the  semi-fetid 
odour  of  sickness  lapsing  by  imperceptible  degrees  to  death.  Beyond 
and  at  one  side  stretched  the  parlour,  frigid  as  a  tomb  even  in 
that  hot  August  weather.  Furnished  in  the  taste  of  the  present 
Mrs.  Drake,  it  displayed  a  set  of  black  walnut  and  haircloth  as 
shiny  as  the  day  on  which  it  was  bought,  mortuary  wreaths  of 
waxed  flowers  or  hair,  stuffed  birds  under  glass  bells,  crocheted 
tidies.  The  fire-place,  which  would  have  given  even  that  tomb-like 
cube  a  soul,  had  been  sealed  with  a  sheet  of  iron  painted  black 
on  which  had  been  pasted  many  gay-coloured  embossed  pictures. 
From  the  wall,  two  engravings,  "  Kock  of  Ages "  and  "  From 
Shore  to  Shore,"  breathed,  by  their  cruel  and  untimely  warning, 
an  extra  element  of  melancholy  into  the  sepulchral  atmosphere. 
A  centre-table,  covered  with  a  red  woollen  cloth,  ornamented  with 
stamped  figures,  bore  a  huge  Bible  surrounded  by  other  books  of 
a  religious  character.  Even  the  type  of  its  literature  added  to 
the  gloom. 

The  mantel,  noble  in  itself,  many  tables  of  a  depressing  modern 
tawdriness,  a  what-not,  quaintly  mid-Victorian,  were  laden  with 
objects  that  were  the  accumulation  of  Mrs.  Drake's  lifetime — a 
collection  from  which  nothing  had  ever  been  rejected  and  in  which 
anything  that  had  ever  been  broken  had  been  carefully  mended 
and  the  cracked  side  concealed;  vases  filled  with  pampas-grass 
and  cat-o'-nine-tails ;  faded  sea-fans,  huge  shells,  prettily  pink- 
lipped  or  pearly  or  iridescent,  or  hideously  horned  or  spiked  or 
spotted;  the  trophies  in  globes  and  bottles  from  glass-blowers' 
exhibitions;  the  apple  stuck  with  clove;  the  melancholy  gift-books 
of  which  the  gilt  lettering  was  fading,  the  worn  photograph  albums 
of  which  no  clasp  clutched  and  all  the  backs  were  breaking;  the 
piles  of  daguerreotypes;  the  faded  photographs;  the  stark  tin 
types  ;  the  futile  litter  of  "  hand-painted  "  things.  Immeasurably 
that  welter  of  uncorrelated  ugly  detail  increased  the  unlivable 
quality  of  the  room. 

Next  came  the  dining-room  with  its  jig-sawed  oak  set,  the 
spindly  joggly  slant-top  desk,  the  high,  ungainly  over-decorated 
and  over-mirrored  sideboard,  the  oak  table  and  chairs  tortured 
with  unnecessary  ornament,  the  bad  modern  china,  pale  and 
anaemic  in  colouring,  the  cabinet  of  meagre  cut  glass,  the  supper 
growing  cold  on  the  blue  and  red  cloth;  and  on  each  wall,  placed 
in  a  centre  mathematically  accurate,  a  picture  of  a  ship  com 
manded  by  one  of  Southward's  sea-going  ancestry. 


22 

Southward's  eyes  went  from  the  things  to  the  people;  a  trio 
quite  as  depressingly  battered;  her  grandmother's  moveless  bulk, 
her  grandfather's  crippled  age,  Charlotte's  blank  melancholy.  The 
alert  keen  look — still  slightly  predatory — died  in  her  face.  The 
blue  and  black  shimmer  went  out  of  her  eyes,  the  ripple  vanished 
from  her  brilliant  lips.  Her  foot  began  to  tap  the  floor  slowly, 
quickly,  quicker  and  even  more  quick.  Suddenly  she  jumped  to 
her  feet,  lighted  a  candle. 

"  Tell  Hester  to  come  right  up  into  the  garret,  grandmother," 
she  said  and  she  seemed  by  main  force  to  be  holding  some  savage 
emotion  out  of  her  voice. 

Seizing  her  suit-case,  she  hurried  out  into  the  hall,  turned  and 
went  racing  up  the  stairs.  One  long  broad  flight,  bounded  by  a 
balustrade  with  white  banisters  and  a  mahogany  rail,  brought  her 
into  a  square  hall  from  whose  walls  the  painted  eyes  of  many 
Drakes  stared  down  at  her.  Another  flight,  perceptibly  narrower 
but  like  the  other,  marked  by  a  colonial  beauty,  brought  her  to  a 
small  hall.  A  third  flight,  boxed  in  by  walls  and  plainly  utilitarian, 
led  indisputably  to  the  garret. 


CHAPTER  n 

IN  the  light  that  came  from  the  windows,  the  outlines  of  the 
garret  showed  clear.  It  covered  the  entire  square  of  the  original 
house,  the  railed  opening  breaking  through  the  floor  at  one  end. 
At  a  height  of  a  few  feet,  the  walls  merged  with  the  roof,  ran 
at  a  gentle  angle  up  to  the  peak.  The  windows  looking  out  under 
heavy  eaves  were  broad  and  low;  they  came  nearly  to  the  floor. 

Southward  dropped  the  suit-case.  She  moved  over  to  the  table, 
fumbled  there  an  instant  until  she  found  a  match.  Shielding  the 
flame  with  one  hand  and  constantly  renewing  it,  she  lighted  an 
astral  lamp  on  the  table,  crystal  lamps  at  opposite  ends  of  the 
table,  brass  candles  at  intervals  between.  It  was  strange,  coming 
from  the  stiffness  and  dinginess  and  mustiness  of  downstairs, 
that  she  did  not  gasp.  For  in  the  light  of  the  first  lamp,  the 
room  began  to  bloom  with  soft  colour;  at  each  extra  illumination, 
it  unfolded  petals  of  a  deeper  tinting  until,  in  the  united  blaze, 
it  flared  like  a  monstrous  exotic  flower.  About  her,  in  background 
and  furnishings,  lay  a  wild  vivid  melange  of  Orient  and  Occident, 
antiquity  and  modernity,  subtle  perturbing  colour,  classic,  tran- 
quillising  form. 

The  walls  and  roof — it  gave  a  curious  parilion-like  aspect  to 
the  place — were  draped  in  a  thin,  crepy,  lustreless  material. 
Shaded  in  tint,  it  must  originally  have  run  all  the  changes  from 
a  dim  pink  through  luminous  yellows  and  glowing  oranges ;  now  it 
was  faded  and  blurred  and  sheened  to  a  blend  of  all  these  hues. 
Superimposed  on  this  background  everywhere  was  more  colour — 
pure  colour — deep  colour — and  deeper — Chinese  stuffs — coats, 
skirts,  formless  pieces  of  drapery.  Over  the  arms  of  the  graceful 
Sheraton  couch  which  filled  one  corner  they  lay;  over  the  chaise- 
longue  which  protruded  at  right  angles  from  the  wall;  over  the 
backs  of  chairs  of  bamboo  intricately  braided,  of  mahogany  deli 
cately  inlaid,  of  teak  boldly  carved.  Torn  and  old,  they  still 
rioted  in  unbelievable  discords  of  contrasted  colour,  they  still 
united  in  incredible  harmonies  of  toned  shades,  they  still  preserved 
the  high  lights  of  gold  embroideries.  Above,  wherever  jutting 
joists  or  protruding  beams  offered  a  resting-place — dead  white 
against  the  faded  rose  of  their  background — stood  nude  Greek 

23 


24  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

figures,  statuette-size  in  plaster.  On  the  top  of  the  slant-topped 
maple  desk — dead  white  against  a  panel  of  black  velvet — marched 
a  procession  of  Tanagra  figurines.  And  on  the  walls  between, 
pinned  up  everywhere  with  thumb-tacks,  were  pictures  of  the 
nude  in  colour,  in  black  and  white,  in  photogravure,  cut  from  the 
magazines. 

A  strong  breeze  was  coming  in  the  east  window;  it  rattled  the 
papers  on  the  big  central  table.  Southward  shut  the  windows. 
She  drew  on  one  of  the  Chinese  robes.  It  was  a  prince's  coat  of 
tomato-coloured  satin,  the  seven-toed  dragon  brilliantly  outlined 
over  the  breast,  the  bottom  deeply  edged  with  the  rainbow-wave 
pattern.  It  fitted  perfectly  the  long-lined  hiplessness,  the  low- 
busted  flatness  of  her  boyish  figure.  The  dark  sleeves,  although 
they  flared  at  the  wrists,  clung  tightly  to  her  slim  arms. 

Sitting  on  the  couch  for  an  interval  of  unaccustomed  stillness, 
Southward's  eyes  wandered  vacantly  about  the  garret.  They  fell 
finally  on  the  suit-case  in  the  middle  of  the  room.  Leaping  up 
immediately,  she  pounced  on  it,  snapped  it  open.  On  the  top 
were  her  clothes;  these  she  threw  ruthlessly  about,  rummaging. 
Underneath  came  bundles,  writing-paper,  a  magazine,  a  book — 
last  of  all  a  revolver.  These  she  placed  on  the  table.  Then  walking 
back  and  forth  the  width  of  the  garret  she  put  the  other  things 
away.  Some  went  into  the  drawers  of  an  old  sideboard  of 
mahogany,  gracefully  inlaid,  studded  with  gleaming,  lambent 
brasses.  Others  disappeared  in  a  high  secretary  in  Chinese  Chip 
pendale,  coloured  scarlet  and  covered  with  painted  scenes.  Over 
the  sideboard  stretched  a  long  wide  mirror,  divided  into  three 
parts  by  a  frame  of  gold.  Beside  the  secretary  hung  a  high  narrow 
mirror  divided  into  two  parts  by  a  frame  of  mahogany.  Their 
dimmed  surfaces  kept  passing  Southward's  reflection  from  one  to 
the  other  until  there  stretched  into  an  infinity  of  distance  count 
less  duplications  of  the  brilliant  red-and-gold  figure.  The  empty 
garret  seemed  to  be  besieged  by  files  of  Chinese  princes. 

The  centre-table  supported  a  staggering  weight  of  books,  maga 
zines,  papers  On  it  an  old  writing-box  of  inlaid  maple  lay  open, 
paper,  envelopes,  blotters  tossing  out.  To  this  confusion — one 
corner  of  which  she  cleared  with  a  single  ruthless  sweep  of  her 
arm — Southward  added  a  slim  glass  decanter,  half-filled  with 
wine,  two  slim  glasses  of  old  cut  which  she  brought  from  the 
sideboard.  From  an  old  card-table  which  stood,  one  leaf  up,  against 
the  wall,  she  transferred  to  the  table  a  big  box  of  cigarettes. 

This  done,  she  returned  to  the  couch,  settled  herself  to  another 
period  of  stillness.  Her  eyes,  roving  from  spot  to  spot  in  the 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  25 

garret,  gradually  grew  intense,  preoccupied,  predatory.  With  an 
other  sudden  movement,  swift  and  direct  as  an  eagle  winging  from 
peak  to  peak,  she  darted  to  the  east  window.  She  had  to  kneel  to 
look  out. 

Just  below  sprawled  a  big-stemmed  vine.  Beyond,  surged  star- 
pricked  distance  and  darkness — impenetrable.  Southward  arose, 
sighed  impatiently.  She  walked  back  and  forth  the  length  of 
the  garret  a  dozen  times.  Stopping  half-way  across  the  room,  she 
turned  abruptly  to  the  secretary,  took  out  Jules  Verne's  A  Journey 
to  the  Centre  of  the  Earth.  She  threw  herself  down  on  the  day- 
couch.  Moving  a  candle  close  to  her  head,  she  opened  the  book 
at  random  and  began  to  read.  At  first  the  leaves  turned  quickly, 
but  after  a  while  they  moved  slower  and  slower  until  they  ceased 
to  turn  at  all.  The  book  fell  from  her  hands  to  the  cushions. 
Her  hands  went  up  to  the  back  of  her  head,  clasped  there.  Her 
eyes  set  themselves  on  space;  the  keen  alert  look  returned  to  them. 
She  meditated  without  stirring. 

Suddenly  she  jumped  to  her  feet,  listened.  Something  was  hap 
pening  downstairs.  That  faint  indescribable  stir  which  heralds 
arrival  came  soundlessly  wafted  to  the  garret.  Another  moment 
brought  the  noise  of  footsteps  on  the  stairs.  Another  and  a  head 
appeared  in  the  stair-opening — a  head  piled  with  great  braided 
masses  of  vivid  golden  hair — a  long  white  neck — shoulders  that 
sloped  and  stooped. 

The  head  lifted — turned 


CHAPTEK  III 

" Ave,  lady  of  kingdoms!"  the  girl  exclaimed,  coming  forward. 
The  light  caught  her,  made  a  glory  of  her  hair,  revealed  a  face 
disappointingly  colourless  and  characterless. 

"  Ave,  lady  of  kingdoms !  "  Southward  answered,  falling  back 
against  the  cushions,  "  I'm  glad  to  see  you.  There's  nobody  like 
you  anywhere,  Hetter." 

"  You're  the  only  one  that  feels  that  way,  Southward,"  said 
Hester  Crowell.  She  stopped  suddenly  and  gazed  about  her. 
"  Candles !  "  she  exclaimed  melodramatically.  "  Tear  down  the 
walls  for What  does  this  mean  ?  " 

"  Only  celebration  of  reunion."  Southward's  hands  clasped  be 
hind  her  head  again;  a  glimmer  of  mirth  came  into  her  eyes. 
"  And  perhaps  a  little — a  very  little — anticipation  of  conquest." 

"  Oh,  the  New  York  men,"  Hester  said.  "  I  might  have  gath 
ered." 

"  Yes.  Tell  me  about  them.  I've  been  asleep  at  the  switch. 
I  didn't  even  know  they  were  here." 

Before  replying,  Hester  pulled  from  her  hair  a  half  a  dozen 
hairpins,  long,  curved,  heavy — of  silver.  A  thick  braid  of  hair 
that  covered  the  entire  back  of  her  head  slid  down  over  her  shoulder 
past  her  waist  until  it  touched  the  hem  of  her  gown.  Before  she 
seated  herself,  she  drew  over  her  faded,  shapeless  muslin  dress  the 
Chinese  coat  that  lay  over  the  chaise-longue.  It  was  a  soft  thin 
silk;  originally  an  acid  lemon  in  colour,  it  had  toned  to  a  pearly 
softness.  Bands  of  embroidery  in  peacock  blues  and  greens 
trimmed  the  edges;  and  these  were  set  with  a  decoration  of  tiny 
mirrors.  The  mirrors  winked  in  the  candle-light. 

"It's  a  long  story."  Hester  seated  herself  at  the  centre-table. 
Her  elbow  parted  the  papers  there.  She  started,  suppressed  a 
scream,  jumped  to  her  feet.  "Is  that  thing  loaded,  Southward?" 
she  demanded. 

"  Oh,  you  coward ! "  Southward  answered  with  amused  disdain. 
"  Of  course  it  is.  What  good  is  it — not  loaded  ? " 

She  arose  languidly  and  put  the  revolver  into  one  of  the 
drawers  of  the  secretary. 

"  I  don't  see  why  you  keep  it  round,"  Hester  protested,  "  espe 
cially  loaded." 

26 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  27 

"  There's  no  danger,  Hetter,"  Southward  reassured  her.  "  No 
body's  ever  been  in  this  garret  since  we  fixed  it  up  but  you.  And 
I  repeat  that's  what  I  want  a  gun  for — to  be  ready  when  I  need 
it."  Eeturning  to  the  table,  she  poured  the  slim  glasses  half-full 
of  wine.  She  handed  one  to  Hester,  took  one  herself.  They  lifted 
them.  And  suddenly  they  broke  into  a  rhythmic  chant: 

To  see  the  world! 
To  live  our  lives! 

Not  to  submit  to  the  tyranny  of  things. 

To  be  friends,  yet  never  to  ask  questions  and  to  leave  each  other 
free. 

It  was  as  though  they  had  performed  this  ritual  a  thousand 
times.  They  made  no  comment  on  it;  only  drank. 

Southward  handed  the  cigarettes  to  Hester,  lighted  a  match, 
held  that  out  to  Hester,  lighted  her  own  cigarette,  shook  out  the 
match  in  four  vigorous  movements.  Then  she  returned  to  the 
chaise-longue.  Seating  herself  cross-legged  upon  it,  she  began 
to  send  volleys  of  smoke-rings  across  the  room.  She  smoked  with 
the  insouciante  efficiency  that  marked  all  her  movements,  inhaling 
deeply  and  without  effort.  But  Hester  seemed  more  an  amateur. 
She  drew  on  her  cigarette  too  frequently  and  before  she  could  have 
tasted  it,  emitted  the  smoke  in  hurried  gasps.  She  talked — but  it 
was  evident  all  the  time  that  she  was  conscious  of  the  firebrand 
that  hung  between  her  slender  forefinger  and  thumb. 

"  Did  you  have  a  good  time  in  Oldtown  ? "  Hester  asked. 

Southward  makes  an  impatient  gesture.  "  So-so,  Hetter.  I'll 
talk  about  that  later.  Tell  me  about  the  New  York  men." 

"  There  are  four  of  them,"  Hester  began  promptly  as  though 
primed  for  this  question.  "  At  least  there  were.  Two  of  them 
have  gone  for  a  tramp.  I'll  begin  with  those  still  here.  Number 
one,  Dwight  Cameron.  I  haven't  seen  him,  but  they  say  he's  very 
handsome,  very  athletic,  very  gay,  very  charming.  How  does  that 
sound?"  , 

"  Sounds  pretty  good  to  me,"  Southward  answered.    "  Go  on !  " 

"  Number  two — believe  it  or  not — John  Smith,"  continued 
Hester. 

Southward  laughed.  "  I've  always  thought  I  would  like  to 
meet  John  Smith.  Take  it  from  me,  he's  an  average  kind  of 
person." 

"  They  say  not  in  this  case,"  Hester  went  on.  "  He's  quieter 
than  Mr.  Cameron  but  exceedingly  interesting  and  courteous. 


28  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Number  three  is — or  was — he's  one  of  the  two  that  went  off  on 
the  walking-trip — Morena  O'Keilly,  half  Irish  and  half  Spanish — 
war-correspondent — globe-trotter — so  handsome  that  it  hurts,  and 
an  awful  flirt.  What  do  you  say  to  that? " 

"  Embarras  de  richesse  is  wot  I  say,"  responded  Southward.  She 
picked  out  another  cigarette,  lighted  it  at  the  stub  of  the  first, 
poked  out  the  stub,  leaned  back  on  the  couch  whirling  smoke-rings. 
"  Lead  me  to  it.  Who's  he  been  flirting  with  ?  " 

"  Oh,  all  the  girls — they  don't  know  him  yet — but  they  say  that — 
Pearl,  Pinkie,  Flora,  Lydia,  Mercy." 

"  I'll  have  to  put  a  stop  to  that  at  once,"  said  Southward,  a 
glimmer  coming  between  her  eye-lashes. 

"  I  knew  you  would."    Hester  laughed. 

"  Any  dope  on  number  four?  "  Southward  asked. 

"  A  reformer,"  Hester  answered. 

"Doesn't  interest  me  at  all,"  Southward  remarked  with  convic 
tion  and  emphasis. 

Hester  laughed  again.  "I  guessed  that.  After  all,  Southward, 
you're  not  very  eclectic." 

"Well,  I  do  draw  some  lines.    What's  his  name?" 

"  Ripley  Fearing.    They  call  him  Kip." 

"  Grand  name  for  a  reformer,"  Southward  commented.  "  Almost 
prejudices  me  in  his  favour.  Now  I  wonder  which  one  of  the 
other  three  it  will  be?" 

Hester  smiled  an  indulgent  smile.  "  It  will  probably  be  all 
three — or  four.  Mr.  Fearing's  reformer  inclinations  won't  protect 
him." 

"  Not  if  I  like  him,"  Southward  admitted  with  a  ghost  of  a 
glimmer.  "  Four  is  a  very  awkward  number  though.  Go  on." 

"  That's  positively  all  I  know,"  said  Hester.  "  I  haven't  seen 
one  of  them  yet." 

"Oh,  I'd  know  that!"  Southward  contemplated  her  with  an 
amused  smile. 

"  Now  tell  me  about  Oldtown." 

"  Oh,  it  was  what  it  always  is.  After  the  first  few  days,  I  nearly 
smothered.  Bad  as  it  is  here,  at  least  I  have  this  secret  place. 
I  can  smoke  if  I  want."  She  looked  approvingly  about  the  garret. 
"  I  really  longed  to  get  back.  But  when  I  arrived,  all  the  old 
cats  of  Shayneford  were  here,  discussing  Gert  Beebee.  Hester, 
I  give  you  my  word,  listening  to  them  made  me  almost  sick.  I 
developed  such  a  grouch — combination  of  discontent  and  disgust — 
those  old  women,  the  illness  in  the  house  and  the  general  gone-to- 
seedness  of  the  whole  proposition.  I  felt  ripe  for  anything.  Hester, 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  29 

it's  the  truth.  I  can't  stand  another  year  of  it.  I  can't.  I  won't. 
Something's  got  to  break.  Just  let's  get  together  and  beat  it." 

Hester  shook  her  head.  "  I  can't,"  she  said  soberly,  "  al 
though "  She  did  not  finish  but  she  raised  her  long  arms  over 

her  head  in  what  was  unmistakably  a  passionate  gesture  of  revolt. 
She  dropped  them  at  once.  "  What  did  they  say  about  Gert  ? " 
she  asked  in  an  even  tone. 

"  Oh,  the  regular  thing.  Tried  to  set  me  on  to  her — to  find  out 
who  the  father  is.  I  made  short  work  of  that  proposition."  South 
ward's  eyes  glowed  with  a  reminiscent  enjoyment  of  her  own 
causticity.  "  I  told  them  that  if  I  were  Gert,  I  wouldn't  marry 
any  of  the  crowd  who  would  be  likely  to  want  to  marry  me.  Such 
a  shambling,  shiftless,  degenerate  crowd!  But  then  look  at  the 
other  Shayneford  men — the  men  we  know — King  Curtis,  Thode 
Snow,  Zoeth  Crafts — all  of  them  except  Lysander.  Now  could 
you  see  one  of  them  as  a  husband — even  if  he  were  the  best  man 
on  earth?" 

Hester  shook  her  head.  "  It  might  seem  a  case  of  sour  grapes 
for  me  to  say  that,  although  I  do  say  it.  But  you  could  have 
married  any  one  of  them." 

"  Lysander's  the  only  real  man  in  town,"  concluded  Southward, 
"  and  he  conies  pretty  close  to  filling  the  bill.  But  then  the  girls 
aren't  much  better.  Pinkie's  a  fox,  Pearl's  a  cat,  and  Flora's  a 
cow.  How  I  despise  them  all !  "  She  said  this  with  impatience 
but  she  added  with  a  distinct  sense  of  enjoyment,  "  And  how  they 
all  hate  me !  " 

"  Well,"  said  Hester,  "  they  ought  to.  I  don't  blame  them  a  bit. 
They  want  to  marry  and  you've  kept  most  of  them  out  of  matri 
mony  by  making  a  conquest  of  the  only  eligible  men  in  town. 
Then  you  know,  Southward,  if  one  of  the  men  ever  makes  a  move 
towards  one  of  them,  you  always  yank  him  back."  She  surveyed 
her  companion  severely. 

Southward  laughed.    She  looked  a  little  shamefaced. 

"  Now  Pearl,  for  instance,"  Hester  went  on.  "  She's  crazy  about 
Lysander.  And  I  don't  suppose  Lysander'll  ever  get  over  being 
in  love  with  you.  You  won't  let  him." 

"  They  get  over  everything  sooner  or  later,"  Southward  remarked 
cynically.  "  However,  you're  wrong  there,  Hetter.  I've  always 
played  square  with  Lysander.  I  like  him  too  much.  I'm  perfectly 
square  with  other  men,  for  that  matter.  Only  sometimes  when 
they  start  developing  a  crush,  I'm  not  quite  so  harsh  as  I  might 
be." 

"  You're  a  devil,"  Hester  remarked.     Then  as  one  who  has  said 


30  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

it  many  times  before,  " '  Therefore,  hear  now  this,  O  Lady  of 
Kingdoms,  thou  that  are  given  to  pleasures,  that  dwellest  care 
lessly,  that  sayest  in  thine  own  heart,  I  am  and  none  else  beside 
me.  For  thou  hast  trusted  in  thy  wickedness,  thou  hast  said 
None  seeth  me.  Thy  wisdom  and  thy  knowledge,  it  hath  perverted 
thee.' " 

"  Well,"  said  Southward,  her  eyes  shining  with  mischief,  "  at 
least  I  get  things  done,  Hetter.  And  believe  me,  I  shall  yet  be  the 
one  to  pull  you  out  of  this  here  Shayneford  land  of  Canaan  into 
that  there  New  York  land  of  Israel.  If  it  weren't  for  me,  you'd  sit 
here  and  mope  and  moon  for  the  rest  of  your  life,  drugging  your 
self  with  all  that  dope — Plato,  Thomas  a  Kempis,  St.  Augustine, 
Marcus  Aurelius,  Epictetus — Emerson.  That  old-time  philosophy 
isn't  getting  you  anywhere.  As  for  that,  I  can  pull  some  Lady-of- 
Kingdoms  stuff  myself.  I  read  that  chapter  in  Isaiah  while  I  was 
in  Oldtown  and  I  decided  that  if  half  of  it  applies  to  me,  the 
other  half  applies  to  you."  She  too  began  to  quote :  " '  Thou  art 
wearied  in  the  multitude  of  thy  counsels,  O  Lady  of  Kingdoms. 
Let  not  the  astrologers,  the  star-gazers,  the  monthly  prognosti- 

cators ' "  She  paused  to  cast  an  oblique  liquid  glance  in  the 

direction  of  the  book  on  the  table,  " '  Stand  up  and  save  thee  from 
these  things  that  shall  come  upon  thee.  Behold  they  shall  be  as 
stubble ;  the  fire  shall  burn  them ;  they  shall  not  deliver  themselves 
from  the  power  of  the  flame ;  there  shall  not  be  a  coal  to  warm  nor 
fire  to  stir  before  it.' " 

Hester  smiled.  "  Your  prophecies  sound  good  to  me,  Southward. 
After  all,  anything  is  better  than  this  killing  monotony." 

"  How  is  Matt,  by  the  way  ? "  Southward  asked. 

"  All  right,  I  guess." 

"I  bought  him  an  old  book  in  Oldtown,"  Southward  remarked. 
"  I  wish  Matt  were  young.  He  must  have  been  some  man — and 
as  he  is,  at  seventy,  I  like  him  better  than  any  other  man  in 
Shayneford  except  Lysander." 

"  He's  a  darling,"  Hester  agreed  warmly.  Then  in  a  meditative 
tone :  "  It  would  be  queer  if  you  married  Lysander  sometime, 
Southward,  wouldn't  it  ?  " 

"  Yes.    But  I  won't.    Oh,  say — how  is  the  Bazaar  going  ?  " 

"  Like  all  the  rest  of  them.  You're  to  have  the  fish-pond  and 
I'm  to  have  the  cake-counter.  All  the  other  girls  have  agreed  to 
go  in  costume." 

Southward  laughed.  "  I  might  have  known  they  would — espe 
cially  with  the  town  full-up  with  New  York  men."  She  laughed 
again — a  laugh  of  pure  enjoyment  with  an  edge  of  malice  on  it. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  31 

"I  wouldn't  have  missed  it  for  a  farm  down-east.  It'll  be  a 
scream." 

"  Well,  they  are  pretty  girls,  Southward,"  Hester  interposed. 
"  You  must  admit  that." 

"  They  would  be  if  they  knew  how  to  dress,"  Southward  decided 
judicially.  "But  Pearl's  got  too  big  a  beak;  Pink's  eyelids  are 
too  red.  Flora's  underlip  hangs.  There  isn't  one  of  them  as  good 
looking  as  Gert  Beebee  used  to  be  or  as  smart  as  Josie  Caldwell  is 
now.  Josie  really  has  style." 

"  It's  queer,  isn't  it,"  Hester  said  in  a  meditative  tone,  "  that 
the  two  girls  who've  turned  out  so  bad  were  our  favorites? 
You've  always  stood  up  for  Gert  and  I  for  Josie.  It's  very  curious 
about  Gert.  I  didn't  expect  anything  like  this  of  her.  She  was 
certainly  one  of  the  most  promising  of  the  girls  we  went  to 
grammar-school  with.  She  could  beat  anybody  in  the  class  at 
mental  arithmetic — do  you  remember?  Her  mind  worked  like  a 
flash." 

"  Oh — sure ! "  Southward  agreed.  "  But  outside  of  that — I 
mean  in  play — it  was  always  nip  and  tuck  between  her  and  me 
as  to  which  could  climb  the  highest,  run,  swim,  or  skate  the 
fastest.  And  she  was  so  pretty  then !  " 

"  Do  you  remember  what  a  little  gipsy  she  was  when  we  used 
to  go  bathing  together?  She  always  wore  some  ragged  old  dress. 
Yet  how  white  her  skin  was — and  how  picturesque  she'd  look! 
I'm  sorry  for  Gert.  I'm  making  the  baby  some  little  bonnets — 
you  know,  those  handkerchief  arrangements." 

"  I'm  sorry  too,"  said  Southward.  "  I  bought  the  baby  two 
little  dresses  in  Oldtown.  Of  course  Gert's  lost  some  of  that  wild 
beauty.  She's  grown  big  and  a  little  blowsy.  But  she's  a  pippin 
compared  with  any  of  the  girls  of  our  age  who've  been  married 
for  five  years.  Take  Aline  Allen — I  saw  her  in  Oldtown — you 
remember  what  a  lovely  thing  she  was !  " 

"Perfectly.  When  I  was  a  little  girl,  she  was  my  idea  of  an 
angel." 

"  I  wish  you  could  see  her  now.  She's  had  five  children,  and 
she's  had  them  just  as  fast  as  they  could  come.  She  looks  like 
a  string-bean.  All  that  lovely  colour's  gone.  Her  hair  is  thin 
and  dull.  She  stoops — oh,  she's  a  shipwreck.  That's  another  of 
my  objections  to  matrimony.  See  what  it  does  to  women.  They 
all  get  either  scrawny  and  round-shouldered  or  fat  and  tubby,  lose 
their  hair,  teeth,  and  complexions.  Now  on  the  other  hand,  take 
Josie  Caldwell.  They  say  dreadful  things  about  her  and  I  guess 
they're  true.  Yet  the  last  time  she  came  here,  she  certainly  put 


32  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

it  all  over  the  girls  who  graduated  with  her  for  looks  and  style. 
And  she  used  to  be  such  a  quiet,  colourless,  unassertive  thing." 

"  The  other  girls  have  had  children  too  often  and  have  worked 
too  hard  between  times,"  Hester  said.  "  That's  what  marriage 
must  mean  for  the  majority  of  women,  I  suppose." 

"  Not  for  mine  then,"  Southward  declared  flippantly.  "  Why, 
Hetter,  I  can't  endure  even  the  thought  of  marriage !  " 

"  Southward,"  Hester  asked  suddenly,  "  how  many  proposals  of 
marriage  have  you  had?" 

Southward  meditated.  "I  don't  know  exactly.  Let  me  see. 
Six  or  seven  I  should  say.  I  suppose  perhaps  I  could  have  had 
more.  But  you  see,  Hetter,  I'm  not  really  a  flirt."  And  at 
Hester's  smile.  "  No,  I'm  not.  I  like  conquest  and  I  look  upon 
men  as  legitimate  prey;  but  I  don't  let  it  go  as  far  as  a  proposal 
if  I  can  possibly  help  it.  I'm  too  good  a  sport  for  that.  When 
it  gets  down  to  cases,  I  make  a  declaration  of  independence.  And 
I  slip  it  in  just  as  soon  as  I  can.  '  I'm  not  a  marrying  woman,' 
I  say.  '  I  don't  want  to  marry,  but  I  like  to  flirt.  You  take  care 
of  yourself  and  I'll  take  care  of  myself.  A  man  doesn't  interest 
me  at  all  after  I've  got  him  going.  Now  we're  off.' " 

"  And  what  effect  does  that  have  on  them  ? "  asked  Hester  with 
interest. 

"  It's  a  shame  to  take  the  money.  But  if  after  that  they  burn 
their  wings,  I  don't  consider  that  it's  my  fault.  They  do  though, 
and  frequently.  And  the  letters  they  write.  That  thing,  by  the 
way," — she  waved  her  hand  towards  the  writing-box  on  the  table, — 
"  is  full  of  them.  Help  yourself." 

Hester  pulled  the  box  towards  her,  lifted  the  cover.  It  was 
filled  with  packages  of  letters.  "Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that 
I  can  read  these  if  I  want? " 

"  You  can,"  said  Southward.  "  I've  had  no  scruples  ever  since 
I  discovered  that  one  drummer  person  was  in  the  habit  of  reading 
my  letters  aloud  to  his  friends.  Not  that  there  was  anything  in 
them  that  I  was  ashamed  of " 

"  Well,"  said  Hester  in  a  hesitating  voice,  "  if  you  don't  care, 
I  don't  see  why  I  shouldn't."  Her  hand  went  out  slowly,  withdrew, 
became  a  white  flutter  inside  the  box.  She  slipped  off  the  elastic 
band  from  a  packet  of  letters. 

For  an  interval  the  garret  was  silent.  Southward  smoked  tran 
quilly,  now  and  then  blowing  a  volley  of  rings. 

Suddenly  Hester  burst  into  laughter.  "  Oh,  Southward,"  she 
exclaimed,  "  how  could  you !  "  She  read  on.  "  Oh,  you — you — 
you!"  she  concluded  impotently. 


THE  K&)Y  OF  KINGDOMS  33 

"  Sounds  fairly  exciting  to  listen  to  you,"  Southward  said. 
"  They  bored  me  enough,  Heaven  knows.  When  a  man  takes  his 
pen  in  hand — all  except  one  who  never  punctuated  from  beginning 
to  end.  That  was  so  entertaining  that  I  was  strongly  tempted  not 
to  throw  him  down." 

Hester  paid  no  attention.  She  read  on,  absorbed.  Suddenly  she 
laughed  again.  "  Oh,  you  wicked " 

"  No  lady-of -kingdoms  stuff !  "  Southward  ordered. 

Hester  was  only  half  listening.  There  came  another  interval 
of  reading.  "  Oh,  the  idiot !  " 

"Now  you're  talking!"  Southward  interpolated  lazily.  "Who 
could  blame  me  ?  " 

"Would  you  think  that "  Hester  ejaculated.  "What  a 

ridiculous A  man's  an  awful  fool  to "  A  long  pause. 

"Isn't  it?"  This  absently. 

"  Guess  so,"  agreed  Southward. 

There  came  another  interval  of  reading.  Southward  still 
smoked. 

"  Good  gracious,  Southward !  "  Hester  said  suddenly.  She  sat 
bolt  upright.  "  This  man  is  threatening  to  kill  you." 

"Gee!"  Southward  exclaimed/  For  an  instant  a  faint  em 
barrassment  filmed  the  chiselled  incisiveness  of  her  look.  "  I 
thought  I'd  destroyed  that.  He  was 

"  I  know — that  was  why  you  got  the  revolver." 

"  Correct !  "  assented  Southward.  She  too  sat  bolt  upright.  The 
embarrassed  look  went  out  of  her  face — it  became  keen,  humorous. 
"  Yes,  he  told  me  if  I  wouldn't  marry  him  he'd  shoot  me." 

"What  did  you  say  to  him?"  Hester  asked  breathlessly. 

"  I  said,  «  Shoot  and  be  damned ! '  " 

"  Were  you  afraid  ?  " 

"Well,  I  bought  the  revolver.  Lysander  got  it  for  me  and 
taught  me  how  to  use  it.  I  practised  with  it  every  minute  that 
I  could  until  I  was  a  dead  shot.  Hester,  for  one  year  I  went 
everywhere  in  this  town — armed." 

"  Good  Lord!    You How'd  you  carry  it?  " 

"  I  fixed  up  a  holster  inside  my  shirt-waist.  You  know  how 
they  used  to  pouch  just  above  the  waist.  I  never  went  anywhere 
without  it." 

"  My  goodness,  Southward !  "  Hester  said,  "  if  I'd  suspected 

that It  is  rather  thrilling,  though.  Weren't  you  frightened 

to  death?" 

"  Well,  at  first.  I  had  always  believed  that  most  people  didn't 
mean  it  when  they  threatened  to  kill — but  he  was  a  different  kind 


34  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

of  person.  He'd  have  done  it  as  quick  as  a  flash,  I  think,  if  he 
could  have  made  up  his  mind.  But  he  couldn't  make  up  his 
mind.  The  queer  part  of  it  was  that,  although  he  hated  me,  he 
still  loved  me.  He  couldn't  pull  the  trigger.  Then  again,  another 
thing  helped  me.  After  my  first  fear  died  down — and  I  was 
frightened  to  death  at  first,  I'll  admit  that — and  after  the  thrill 
died  down — and  it  was  thrilling  in  a  way,  I'll  admit  that  also — 
the  situation  actually  bored  me.  I  told  him  that  once,  and  I 
expected  he'd  shoot  me,  but  he  didn't.  Sometimes  I  think  that 

was  what  cured  him.  But "  Southward  added  a  little  incon- 

sequently,  "  I've  always  kept  the  gun.  I  never  go  anywhere  without 
it.  I  took  it  to  Oldtown." 

Hester  went  back  to  the  letters.  But  her  interest  obviously 
began  to  diminish.  Finally  she  dropped  a  long  scrawled  sheet. 
"  I  guess,"  she  concluded,  "  the  flavour  soon  dies  out  of  a  cor 
respondence  addressed  to  another  woman."  With  a  decided  move 
ment,  she  stacked  the  letters,  snapped  the  elastic  bands  about 
them,  replaced  them  in  the  box.  "  Life  is  a  curious  thing,  isn't 
it?"  she  said  thoughtfully.  "Here  we  are,  you  and  I,  two  girls 
of  the  same  generation,  brought  up  in  the  same  environment, 
meeting  the  same  people,  subject  to  the  same  influences 
and  with  more  than  the  usual  congeniality  of  temperament. 
No  man  ever  meets  you  without  being  immediately  attracted 
to  you — not  always  of  course  with  the  feeling  of  a  lover 
but  always  with  interest.  Men  see  you  the  moment  you  come  on 
the  scene.  You  leap  out  of  the  landscape  into  their  vision.  At 
twenty-five  you've  had  half  a  dozen  proposals  of  marriage  and 
many  flirtations  which  might  have  run  into  marriage.  At  twenty- 
eight,  I  not  only  have  never  had  a  proposal,  but  I  have  never  had 
a  flirtation  or  anything  remotely  resembling  it.  Not  only  that, 
but  men  actually  don't  see  me  when  they  look  at  me.  It  is  as 
though  I  were  walking  through  life  without  a  face.  It  isn't  a 
matter  that's  breaking  my  heart  of  course.  For  you  know  I've 
never  been  crazy  about  men.  They  frighten  me.  But  it  does 
interest  me  to  find  out  the  reason  why.  How  do  you  account  for 
it,  Southward?" 

Southward  lighted  a  third  cigarette.  "  Your  mother's  been 
quarrelling  with  you,"  was  all  she  said. 

Hester  did  not  speak. 

"Was  it  very  bad?"  Southward  went  on. 

Hester  suddenly  drew  her  hands  from  the  back  of  her  neck 
forward  over  her  face.  She  talked  in  a  muffled  tone  through  them. 
"It  was  pretty  bad,"  she  admitted. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  35 

"  Who  started  it  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  exactly.  I  think  probably  Flora  stirred  her  up 
yesterday — not  intentionally  of  course.  Flora  has  always  fas 
cinated  her.  You  know  Flora's  soft  placidity." 

"  Sure !  "  Southward  answered.    "  I  know.    Cow !    Go  on  I  " 

"  Flora's  a  nice  girl,"  Hester  said  stanchly.  "  I'm  not  knocking 
Flora.  She's  not  original,  perhaps,  but  all  there.  Well,  she  talked 
about  her  engagement  of  course,  and  all  the  gifts  King  Curtis's 
people  had  sent  her.  And  it  maddened  mother.  Mother  was 
handsome  when  she  was  a  girl,  you  know.  She's  handsome  now 

for  that  matter.  And  then  Bee Mother  always  had  plenty  of 

attention.  She  looks  upon  attention  from  men  as  a  sort  of  sterling 
mark  that  proves  ladyhood.  She  seems  to  think  the  fact  that 
I've  never  had  any  attention  not  only  reflects  on  me  but  in  some 

unaccountable  way  on  her.  Now  in  point  of  fact "  Here 

Hester  smiled  with  a  real  mirth.  "  I  honestly  don't  mind  a  bit 
myself.  I  don't  miss  the  attentions  of  men.  Men.  or  at  least 
young  men,  don't  interest  me  particularly.  And  so  when  mother 
tells  me  that  the  reason  men  don't  like  me  is  that  I'm  homely  and 
no  style  and  uninteresting — '  a  bump  on  a  log '  is  her  favourite 
expression — it  really  doesn't  hurt  me  as  much  as  she  thinks.  But 
last  night,  she  got  on  a  new  strain;  she  reproached  me  because 
she  was  never  going  to  have  any  grandchildren.  Now  she  never 
gets  a  rise  out  of  me  on  the  question  of  lovers,  although  I  would 
like  to  think  that  for  her  sake  I  had  refused  one  or  two.  But 
when  she  struck  the  maternity  question,  she  hit  the  raw  end  of 
a  nerve." 

"  What  do  you  mean? "  Southward  asked  directly. 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  you."  Hester's  long  slim  hands  were  now  clasped 
on  the  top  of  her  head.  Her  eyes  fixed  themselves  on  a  distance 
that  stretched  leagues  beyond  the  walls  of  the  garret.  "  I  guess  I'm 
the  maternal  type.  I'm  a  breeder  instinctively.  I  do  love  children. 
I  would  love  to  have  a  family — a  big  one.  That's  the  only  purpose 
matrimony  serves  in  my  eyes."  She  paused.  "  I  know  you  hate 
the  thought  of  marriage,  yourself,  Southward,  but  don't  you  want 
to  have  children  sometime?  " 

Southward  answered  immediately  and  emphatically  "No!  No, 
again  and  again  no.  You  see  I  look  on  that  proposition  this  way. 
Any  old  female  can  be  a  mother  and  almost  any  old  female  is. 
I  think  I  can  do  something  better.  I  don't  know  what  it  is  yet. 
I  haven't  had  a  chance  to  find  out.  But  I  consider  that  I'd  be 
wasted  at  the  maternity  job.  I'm  too  good  for  it.  And  besides 
look  what  it  does  to  women,  look  at  the  Shayneford  girls  of  our 


36  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

age  who've  married  and  had  a  family.  Then,  although  children 
amuse  me,  I  don't  care  for  them  particularly.  And  I  hate  babies. 
Don't  you,  Hester?" 

"  I  adore  babies,"  Hester  answered  simply.  "  I  worship  them. 
I  cannot  hear  of  the  birth  of  a  baby  to  any  woman,  even  Bert 
Beebee,  without  a  pang  of  envy.  I  cannot  take  a  baby  into  my 
arms  without  experiencing  a  sensation  that's  positively  heavenly, 
a  gush  of  love  and  tenderness  and  protection — you  know  what  I 
mean."  She  paused  and  looked  inquiringly  at  Southward. 

No  answering  gleam  lighted  Southward's  face.  She  shook  her 
head  finally.  "  No,  there's  no  use  pretending.  I  don't  get  you." 

"  I  love  children,"  Hester  went  on.  "  I  love  all  children.  I 
don't  recognise  any  artificial  differences.  Of  course  I'm  susceptible 
at  times  to  the  irritations  of  having  them  about — but  not  so 
susceptible,  it  seems  to  me,  as  most  mothers  that  I  know." 

"  That's  because  you  don't  have  to  have  them  about,"  South 
ward  conjectured  shrewdly. 

"  That's  what  some  mothers  tell  me,"  Hester  admitted.  tf  I'd 
like  to  have  the  chance  to  prove  it  though.  But  it  doesn't  make 
any  difference  to  me  whether  they're  clean  or  dirty,  sick  or  well, 
pretty  or  homely,  good  or  bad.  I  love  them — that's  all  there  is  to 
it.  And  yet  I  suppose  I  shall  never  have  a  child."  Hester  said 
this  last  in  a  musing  tone  as  though  she  had  forgotten  Southward's 
presence.  "  I  don't  suppose  I  shall  ever  get  a  chance  to  marry, 
even  if  it  were  one  that  I  could  accept."  She  paused. 

"  Pretty  tough !  "  dropped  from  Southward  involuntarily. 

"  I  suppose  numberless  women  have  married  just  anybody," 
Hester  mused  further,  "  and  put  up  with  loathsome  companionship 
for  the  sake  of  maternity.  It  seems  so  strange  that  the  birth  of 
children  should  depend  on  so  many  accidental  things.  It  seems 
that  wanting  children  should  be,  after  health,  the  first  qualification 
for  motherhood.  But  I  suppose  that  nature  has  a  purpose,  that 
she  planned  it  out  ages  ago,  that  everything  that  seems  fortuitous 
is  really  the  result  of  a  wonderful  deep-lying,  far-reaching  system. 
But  it  is  a  puzzle.  Take  me  for  instance.  I'm  as  good 
a  human  being  surely  as  Flora  Tubman.  Certainly  I  am  as 
healthy,  more  intelligent,  though  certainly  not  so  pretty  and  per 
haps  not  so  good.  Yet  nature  selects  her  to  carry  on  the  race. 
I  wonder  in  what  way  that  I  myself  don't  realise  that  I'm  unfit." 

"  Oh,  rot !  "  Southward  interposed  vigorously.  "  The  answer 
is  that  you're  too  fine  and  too  lovely  and  too  clever  for  the  gang 
of  bone-heads  that  you've  always  known.  If  you  could  meet  your 
kind  of  man,  he'd  be  crazy  about  you." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  37 

Hester  smiled  indulgently,  as  though  at  the  outburst  of 
a  child.  "  Southward,"  she  asked,  sobering  abruptly,  "  do  you 
really  despise  men?  You're  always  saying  you  do.  But  do 
you?" 

Southward's  frown  drew  her  straight  brows  into  a  perplexed 
tangle. 

"  I  do  and  I  don't,"  she  said.  "  I  like  their  companionship  for 
out-of-door  things  and  I  like  their  talk — if  they  don't  get  mushy. 
I  like  the  masculine  point  of  view.  Sometimes  I  feel  that 
intellectually  the  masculine  point  of  view  is  necessary  to  me.  And 

yet It's  queer  when  I  think  of  it.  Everybody  says  I'm 

heartless.  I  don't  believe  I  am  so  dreadfully  heartless. 
I'm  awfully  tender  of  old  people  and  animals  and  some  women 
and  almost  anybody  that's  sick  or  in  trouble,  but  I  have 
no  mercy  whatever  as  far  as  men  are  concerned.  I  like  some  of 
them — Lysander  for  instance — but  as  for  men  in  general,  yes,  I 
guess  I  do  despise  them."  The  perplexed  frown  disappeared  in 
the  predatory  look  which,  increased  by  some  sinister  emotion,  sud 
denly  made  a  volcano  of  her  smooth  young  face.  "  When  I  think 
of  Charlotte " 

"  Yes,  I  hate  them  too  when  I  think  of  Charlotte."  Hester's 
face  changed  too — but  it  grew  tragic,  not  fierce. 

"  When  I  consider  what  a  price  she's  paid  for You  know, 

Hester,  I  was  sixteen  when  I  first  heard  Charlotte's  story.  It 
made  a  terrible  impression  on  me.  I  did  really  hate  men  for  a 
long  time.  I  made  a  vow  to  myself  to  break  as  many  hearts  as  I 
could.  Of  course  I  outgrew  that  idea,  but  the  feeling  has  never 
died  down — that  sense  of  injustice.  I  suppose  that's  one  reason 
why  I  justified  myself  in  flirting  the  way  I  do.  I  feel  that  no 
matter  what  I  do,  they've  done  much  worse  and  done  it  as  a 
matter  of  course  and  never  questioned  their  right.  Yes,  Char 
lotte's  experience  certainly  made  a  difference  in  my  life.  For 
one  thing  I  feel  that  she's  my  responsibility  as  long  as  I  live. 
For  a  long  time  that  revelation  made  the  thought  of  marriage 
utterly  impossible.  But  of  course  that  isn't  my  objection  to  mar 
riage  now.  It  is  that  it's  such  a  confining  institution  for  women 
and " 

"  Southward,"  Hester  interrupted  suddenly,  "  I'd  like  to  ask 
you  something.  Do  you  ever  look  the  facts  of  nature  in  the  face? 
When  you  think  of  a  future  husband,  do  you  see  a  definite  figure — 
what  people  call  an  ideal  ?  I  mean  do  you  think  of  him  primarily 
as  a  person  you  have  chosen  for  companionship,  or  do  you  think 
of  him  primarily  only  in  reference  to  the  marriage  relation,  or 


38  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

do  you  think  of  him  primarily  as  a  fitting  person  to  beget  your 
children?  I  mean " 

Abruptly  she  stopped;  for  flame,  flickering  from  pink  to  scarlet, 
was  beating  in  successive  waves  over  Southward's  face.  Suddenly 
Hester  blushed  too,  a  thick  deep  unbecoming  flood  of  crimson. 
For  an  instant  the  two  girls  stared  at  each  other  aghast.  For  an 
instant,  half-terrified,  half-fascinated,  they  hung  over  that  mys 
terious  abyss  which  in  conversation  they  had  never  crossed.  Then 
as,  with  one  accord,  they  drew  back. 

"  I  never  think  of  marriage  except  as  the  basis  for  a  pleasant 
companionship,  Hester,"  Southward  said.  "  I  never  consider  the 
matter  of  children.  I  never  consider  the  matter  of  the  married 
relation.  To  me  marriage  means  merely  the  provision  of  a  good 
comrade  for  the  game  of  life.  But  even  then  it  isn't  necessary 
to  my  scheme  of  things.  I'm  just  as  well  off  without  it.  What 
ever  it  is — that  feeling  with  which  men  inflame  women  so  that 
they  must  marry — whatever  it  is,  I  never  have  it.  I'm  immune. 
And  I'm  glad  of  it.  You  see,"  she  smiled  a  little,  "  I'm  always 
too  interested  in  the  next  man  to  think  of  marriage.  Men  appeal 
to  me  only  on  the  score  of  novelty." 

"  Marriage  to  me,"  Hester  explained,  "  means  only  a  family. 
I'd  want  to  respect  my  husband;  but  I  can  live  without  love, 
romance,  companionship.  I  do  want  a  family  though.  I  cannot 

bear  to  think "  She  smiled,  though  palpably  with  an  effort. 

"  But  I  wish  I  could  go  to  a  beauty-doctor  and  be  made  lovely  for 
mother's  sake.  And  then  if  I  could  gather  in  one  little  scalp, 
not  for  my  belt  but  for  hers,  it  would  make  for  considerable 
domestic  felicity  in  our  wigwam.  I  pity  mother  so  much  when 
she  deplores  my  lack  of  looks  that  I  find  myself  wondering  if 
something  couldn't  be  done  about  it." 

Hester  arose  as  she  spoke  and  moved  over  to  the  mirror.  South 
ward  left  the  couch  and  joined  her.  The  two  girls  stood  surveying 
their  reflections  there,  Hester  soberly,  Southward  as  though  from 
a  new  point  of  view. 

Hester  was  taller  than  Southward,  and  she  was  more  slender. 
But  her  slenderness  was  not  really  slimness;  it  was  thinness, 
gauntness.  She  was  blondish.  Her  face  was  without  colour — 
sallow  and  freckled.  Neither  life  nor  light  sparkled  in  her  ex 
pression.  Frequently  her  gaze  lost  itself  in  apathy.  She  hesitated 
when  she  talked,  and  her  walk  showed  a  certain  ungraceful 
unsteadiness.  In  every  possible  way  she  lacked  authority.  She 
was  not  without  her  good  points.  Her  features  were  the  kind  on 
which  personal  charm  could  have  written  much.  Her  teeth  were 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  39 

white  and  regular,  her  hands  slim  and  shapely.  And  her  hair  gave 
her  a  definite  point  of  beauty.  It  was  not  so  much  hair  as  flame, 
not  so  much  flame  as  blaze.  It  arose  from  her  head  with  a  singular 
virility,  every  hair  in  rebellion  against  every  other  hair,  swept 
like  a  conflagration  from  brow  to  neck. 

Yet  these  points  palliated  little.  You  could  not  look  at  Hester 
without  a  feeling  of  dissatisfaction  as  with  an  incomplete  thing. 
Physically,  she  made  a  few  promises,  but  her  personality  redeemed 
none  of  them.  She  was  blank. 

In  contrast,  Southward's  crisp  slimness  seemed  to  take  on 
another  element  of  completeness  and  compactness;  her  chiselled 
clean-cutness  another  degree  of  regularity  and  virility;  her 
brunette  colouring  to  run  more  emphasisingly  to  high  lights  and 
definite  tints.  Almost  every  quality  of  her  figure  was  boyish. 
It  had  a  boy's  slimness  of  height,  a  boy's  flatness  of  width.  Its 
lines  were  all  straight,  though  springing  with  life.  The  breasts 
alone  stirred  her  waist  into  faint  soft  curves.  Almost  every 
quality  of  her  face  was  boyish.  It  had  a  boy's  squareness  of 
shape,  a  boy's  frankness  of  expression.  Her  hair,  thick,  straight, 
sleek,  ran  down  into  a  peak  of  her  forehead  and  then  turning 
into  flat  massive  bands  at  her  ears,  clung  so  close  that  it  seemed 
short.  It  made  her  head  look  like  a  boy's  head.  Her  eyes,  melted 
jet  poured  into  silver,  showed  through  underlying  blue  gleams 
a  boy's  calmness  and  clarity  of  gaze.  When  she  thought  hard, 
her  brows  that  were  ordinarily  arches  of  perfect  beauty  drew 
straight  and  merged  with  a  vertical  frown  that  held  a  boy's  irri 
tated  perplexity.  In  any  consideration  of  Southward's  face,  you 
must  come  again  and  again  to  her  lips.  For  just  as  the  faint 
curve  of  her  breasts  gave  her  figure  its  only  air  of  the  maiden, 
her  lips  gave  her  face  its  single  touch  of  the  woman;  they  were 
softly  turned  but  full,  the  colour  of  raspberries  and  the  texture 
of  pearl. 

Hard  Southward  was  with  the  hardness  of  youth,  and  proud 
with  the  pride  of  personality.  And  yet  you  could  not  look  at  her 
without  that  faint  inward  stir  which  leads  to  a  delicious  sadness. 
In  the  directness  of  her  eyes  was  the  eternal  enigma  of  virginity. 
An  accidental  combination — a  quality  of  piquancy  plus  some  sub 
tlety  of  irregularity — united  with  it  to  make  poignancy.  It  was 
a  beaute  du  diable  raised  to  the  nth  power. 

Hester,  her  eyes  going  swiftly  from  her  own  face  to  South 
ward's,  voiced  that.  Her  expression  of  weariness  died;  a  look  of 
intense  admiration  warmed  in  its  place.  "  Oh,  Southward !  "  she 
exclaimed,  "  how  I  do  love  to  look  at  you !  There  has  never  been 


40     ,  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

a  moment  since  I've  known  you  that  I  haven't  enjoyed  your  face." 
Southward  examined  her  own  reflection  critically.  "  I'm  lop- 
eyed,"  she  said  dispassionately.  "  And  one  side  of  my  nose  isn't 
like  the  other.  If  I  could  get  those  two  things  fixed  up,  I'd 
qualify.  But  Hester — about  you — I — I — well,  I  don't  know  how 
to  say  it  exactly.  I'm  not  trying  to  make  out  that  you're  a  beauty. 
But  I  do  say  that  there  are  times  when  you're  talking  and  you're 
awfully  interested  in  what  you're  saying  that  I  lore  to  look  at 
you.  I  have  a  feeling  that  you're  the  kind  of  person  that  it  makes 
all  the  difference  in  the  world  in  her  looks  whether  she's  happy 
or  not.  Not  that,"  she  suddenly  became  ferocious,  "  you  couldn't 
improve  yourself  a  whale  of  a  lot  by  taking  some  interest  in  your 
personal  appearance.  You  never  get  the  right  clothes  as  I've 
a  million  times  told  you.  And  your  hair  always  looks  like  the 

devil.    But  when  you're  happy " 

"  Oh,  I'm  happy  all  the  time,"  Hester  insisted,  "  except  when  I 
worry  mother.    Now  let's  talk  about  something  else." 


CHAPTER  IV 

"  I'LL  walk  a  piece  with  you,"  Southward  said  as  Hester  started 
to  go.  "  Wait  till  I  get  my  torch." 

"  I  guess  I'll  wear  this  coat  home,  Southward,"  Hester  asserted 
absently,  ''  it's  come  up  so  cool." 

"  All  right,"  answered  Southward.  She  did  not  remove  her  own 
coat,  and  thus  habited  the  girls  crept  down  the  stairs. 

"  Where  be  you-two  a-going  ? "  Mrs.  Drake  called  from  the  ell 
as  they  tiptoed  through  the  house. 

"  I'm  going  just  a  little  way  with  Hester,  grandmother,"  South 
ward  replied.  And,  "  Good  night,  Mrs.  Drake,"  Hester  called. 

"  Good  night,  Hester,"  Mrs.  Drake  answered.  "  Remember  me 
to  your  mother.  Hadn't  you  better  put  something  on  over  your 
shoulders  ? " 

"  We've  got  something,  grandmother,"  Southward  assured  her. 

The  girls  passed  out  through  the  front  door.  Hester  pressed 
the  button  of  her  electric  torch.  They  walked  between  shoulder- 
high  box-hedges  over  a  sloping  broad  flagged  walk  until  they 
came  to  a  wide  wooden  gate,  dividing,  exactly  in  the  middle,  a 
white  wooden  fence. 

It  was  a  moonlight  night,  still  and  a  little  cool.  A  few  big 
clouds  clung  to  the  sky.  As  the  girls  emerged,  the  moon  dropped 
in  behind  one  of  them.  The  sky  immediately  became  a  deep  sea 
covered  with  islands.  Shoals  of  stars  littered  the  black  currents 
between  these  islands;  the  sky  seemed  to  sag  with  their  weight,  to 
flatten  from  its  high  arch.  But  somewhere  near  was  a  real  sea. 
In  the  air  lay  its  smell,  a  faint  reverberance  of  its  roar. 

"  Southward,"  Hester  said,  holding  the  gate  open  and  peering 
back  into  the  gloom,  "  do  you  ever  stop  to  think  what  a  beautiful 
place  Long  Lanes  is  and  what  a  romantic  place?  Every  time  I 
come  here  nowadays — especially  at  night — I  am  more  strongly 
impressed  with  it." 

Southward  turned  too. 

The  big  house  existed  in  that  light  only  as  a  faint  glimmer. 
The  white  gate  patched  the  darkness  with  a  definite  rectangle 
of  silver,  and  the  white  fence,  which  surrounded  the  formal  garden, 
seemed  to  put  parallel  streaks  of  phosphorescence  across  the  sur- 

41 


42  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

rounding  blackness.  Within  the  enclosure,  everything  was  sharply 
defined,  black — the  round  thick  cushions  of  the  high  box-hedges, 
the  symmetrical  triangles  of  the  low  trees.  At  one  side,  beyond 
the  fence,  stretched  an  orchard — a  bank  of  eoft,  unshaped  gloom. 
At  the  other  side,  also  outside  the  enclosure,  lay  a  garden.  There, 
irregular  splashes  of  white  competed  with  the  starlight;  but 
mainly  its  colour  was  lost;  the  garden  existed  only  by  means  of 
its  perfume.  All  these  however  were  but  assisting  detail;  the 
house  dominated  the  scene.  It  maintained  a  presence,  unseen  but 
majestic,  unprofaned  by  the  woods  that  swept  up  to  it  on  all  four 
sides.  Indeed,  it  was  more  as  though  the  serried  trees  were  care 
fully  guarding,  were  jealously  concealing,  this  product  of  race  and 
caste. 

"  Oh,  yes,  it's  beautiful  enough  on  the  outside,  I  suppose," 
Southward  said.  "  The  trouble  with  me  is  I  can't  see  it.  I  was 
brought  up  with  it,  and  then  of  course  so  many  of  these  beautiful 
old  houses  are  the  tombs  of  so  much  youth  and  ambition,  as  this 
is  of  mine,  that  sometimes  I  wish  they  could  all  be  burned." 
Her  voice  was  fierce  for  an  instant.  "  Of  course,"  she  veered, 
"  if  I  could  clear  out  all  grandmother's  truck  and  restore  the  old 
furniture  to  its  place,  it  would  be  wonderful.  Why,  Hester,  let 
me  take  you  sometime  into  the  upstairs  rooms.  They're  jammed 
full  of  old  stuff;  high-boys,  low-boys,  couches,  secretaries,  chairs — 
God  only  knows  what.  I  could  make  that  house  a  marvel  if  I 
only  had  a  chance — and  provided  I  was  interested  enough  to 
do  it." 

"  Well,  of  course  you'll  have  the  chance  sometime,"  Hester  said 
comfortingly.  "  It's  a  lovely  night  to-night,  isn't  it  ? "  she  con 
tinued,  a  faint  note  of  exhilaration  in  her  voice.  "  I  do  love  a 
starry  night.  Everybody  else  prefers  the  moonlight,  but  I  don't. 
I  never  have." 

"  Oh,  I  think  a  moon  is  great,"  Southward  protested. 

"  I  don't.  It  seems  tawdry  to  me.  And  the  theatre  imitates 
it  so  well.  There's  a  quality  about  the  starlight  that  you  can't 
imitate.  But  then  I  love  the  stars.  You  remember,  in  High, 
astronomy  was  always  my  favourite  science." 

"  I  liked  astronomy,"  Southward  said,  "  but  only  because  it  was 
a  snap.  I  guess  I  liked  physics  and  chemistry  and  mathematics 
much  better.  Astronomy  doesn't  get  you  anywhere.  There's 
nothing  into  it.  And  as  for  the  stars — they're  always  the 
same." 

"  I  don't  think  so,"  Hester  disagreed  emphatically.  "  It  seems 
to  me  that  the  quality  of  the  starlight  varies  not  only  with  the 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  43 

weather  but  with  the  season.  Winter  starlight  is  certainly  dif 
ferent  from  summer  starlight  and  fall  from  spring." 

"  Well,  of  course,"  Southward  agreed  indifferently,  "  I  suppose 
atmospheric  conditions  would  make  a  difference.  Only  I  never 
noticed  it." 

"  Miss  Avery  told  me,"  Hester  went  on  dreamily,  "  that  a  person 
didn't  know  what  stars  were  like  until  he'd  lived  in  the  desert. 
I  think  it  would  be  wonderful  too,  as  you  sail  around  the  world, 
to  watch  the  procession  of  the  constellations.  I  am  so  fond  of 
the  stars  that  I  should  want  to  sleep  on  deck  on  an  ocean  voyage. 
I  hope  I'll  see  the  Southern  Cross  sometime." 

"Well,  Better,"  Southward  suggested  briskly,  "let's  beat  it 
round  the  world  as  soon  as  our  responsibilities  are  over.  I  think 
we  could  rake  and  scrape  enough  between  us  in  ten  years  to  do 
that.  Then  on  our  way  through  the  Mediterranean,  we'll  go  down 
into  the  Sahara  desert  and  camp  out." 

Hester  laughed.  "  All  right.  Southward,  if  you  were  perfectly 
free  what  would  you  do?  What  do  you  consider  the  ideal 
life?" 

"  Travel,"  Southward  answered  promptly.  "  Travel  all  the  time. 
I  want  to  see  the  top  and  bottom  and  both  sides  of  this  old  world. 
Besides  I  like  the  kind  of  social  contact  you  get  in  travel.  You 
meet  people  one  day  and  lose  them  the  next — there  are  no  ties 
of  any  description.  My  idea  of  perfect  happiness  would  be  to 
join  an  exploring  expedition.  I  don't  care  whether  it's  into  the 
Tropics  or  the  Arctics.  I'm  so  strong  and  practical  and  athletic. 
I  stand  the  extremes  of  weather  so  well.  I'm  pretty  sure  I'd  be 
as  game  as  most  men.  Lady  Burton's  life  is  just  the  kind  of 
life  I'd  like  to  lead.  Or,  perhaps  sometime  after  I'm  old  and  all 
the  ginger's  gone  out  of  me,  I  might  settle  down — and  even  marry. 
But  not  until  there's  nothing  left.  And  I'd  like  to  go  not  only 
to  all  the  big  show-places  but  to  a  lot  of  little  hole-in-the-corner 
places.  Wouldn't  you  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  Hester  answered  immediately.  "  Of  course  I  would. 
Who  wouldn't — for  that  matter?  And  who  could  have  lived  the 
life  that  you  and  I  live  in  Shayneford  without  wanting  to  go? 
That's  the  great  bond  between  you  and  me — our  discontent  with 
our  environment.  And  yet,  travelling  wouldn't  entirely  satisfy 
me.  I  don't  know  exactly  what  it  is  I  want.  I  haven't  found 
out  yet.  It's  more "  She  did  not  finish. 

The  two  girls  had  in  the  meantime  turned  into  one  of  the  two 
long  lanes  that  gave  the  Drake  place  its  name.  They  led  in 
opposite  directions,  the  one  to  the  main-travelled  road,  the  other 


44  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

to  the  "  lower  road."  The  lane  was  of  uniform  width  but  deeply- 
rutted.  And  although  they  walked  in  the  hemisphere  of  light 
cast  by  Hester's  torch,  they  stumbled  at  times.  For  long  spaces, 
the  road  spanned  by  bushes  was  open  to  the  sky.  These  were 
succeeded  by  tunnels  made  by  arching  and  intertwining  trees. 
After  ten  minutes  or  more,  they  turned  into  the  "  lower  road." 
Walking  was  easier  now;  for  there  were  sidewalks  although  they 
were  but  grass-bordered  continuations  of  the  street.  At  intervals 
the  dim  white  bulks  or  the  dimmer  black  bulks  of  houses, 
cut  by  golden  window-lights,  began  to  loom  out  of  the  dark.  These 
phantom  cubes  were  preceded  always  by  the  smell  of  flowers  and 
of  box. 

"  There's  a  light  in  Gert's  room,"  Southward  said.  "  Let's  go 
in." 

"  I'd  love  to,"  Hester  answered.  "  But  what  time  was  it  when 
we  left?" 

"  A  little  before  nine." 

"  All  right." 

They  crossed  the  street,  turned  into  a  path  that  led  to  a  low, 
dark,  gambrel-roofed  house.  Southward  knocked  with  a  vigorous 
rat-a-tat-tat. 

A  woman  opened  the  door,  peered  near-sightedly  up  at  them. 

"  Hullo,  Libbie.    It's  only  us,"  Southward  explained. 

"  Oh,  it's  you,  Southward,"  the  woman  answered  in  a  quick 
brisk  tone.  "  Come  right  in.  Oh,  hullo,  Hester.  Gertie'll  be 
tickled  to  death." 

"  We  saw  a  light  in  Gert's  window,"  Southward  explained,  "  and 
we  thought  perhaps  we  could  see  her  for  a  while.  Is  she  sit 
ting  up?" 

"Land,  yes,"  Libbie  said  with  delight.  "Wait  till  I  git  the 
lamp.  Mind  that  top  step.  The  baby's  nursing.  Stronger  nor 
a  little  ox  and  hungrier  nor  a  little  bear.  I  never  see  anything 
like  it." 

"  I  saw  Sue-Salome,  this  afternoon,"  Southward  remarked. 
"  Don't  you  miss  her  ?  " 

"  I  should  say  I  did,"  answered  Sue-Salome's  sister.  "  But  I 
see  her  once  every  day  and  sometimes -twice.  She  most  gen'ally 
drops  in  here  in  the  afternoon  and  sometimes  I  go  home  for  a  spell 
in  the  evening  soon's  Mr.  Beebee's  had  his  supper." 

The  girls  followed  her  up  a  narrow  flight  which  led  directly 
from  the  little  box-like  hall.  In  the  front  room,  a  big  girl  in 
a  long  pink  kimono  sat  in  a  Boston  rocker  near  the  window. 
Two  long  thick  braids  of  hair  pulled  forward  over  her  shoulders, 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  45 

and  between  their  ends  a  baby  tugged  as  though  famished  at  a 
round  white,  milk-swelled  breast. 

"  Hullo,  Southward !  "  the  girl  called,  craning  vigorously  round 
at  them.  "Hullo,  Hester!  Sit  down!  Glad  to  see  you!"  Un 
abashed,  she  looked  her  callers  straight  in  the  eye. 

"  Gracious !  what  a  big  brat,  Gert !  "  Southward  commented 
serenely.  "Greedy's  his  middle  name,  isn't  it?" 

"  Eats  like  a  I-don't-know-what,"  Gert  Beebee  said  proudly. 

"  Ain't  he  a  handsome  child  ? "  Libbie  Hatch  demanded  ex 
ultantly. 

Libbie  Hatch  was  very  like  her  sister  Sue-Salome.  Only  while 
Sue-Salome  was  little  and  slim  and  brisk,  she  was  little  and  fat 
and  brisk.  She  had  a  round  butter-ball  of  a  face,  lighted 
by  quick,  dark,  brilliant  eyes.  What  in  Sue-Salome  seemed  an 
unappeasable  joy  in  life  took  the  form  in  Libbie  of  an  unappeasa 
ble  curiosity  about  it.  Libbie  always  wore  earrings,  hanging 
arrangements  of  minute  diamonds.  She  wore  them  now  with  her 
neat  print  gown. 

The  twinkling  drops  seemed  to  point  the  sparkle  in  her  face. 

Now  she  bent  over  the  child  and  whispered  baby-talk.  He 
dropped  the  nipple  and  seemed  to  stare  an  instant  at  the  glitter 
on  her  ear-lobe. 

"  See  that  ? "  Gert  asked  serenely,  "  ain't  much  gets  by  him !  " 

Except  for  a  slight  refining  pallor,  Gert  Beebee  showed  no 
traces  of  her  recent  maternity.  She  was  pretty,  a  rustic,  almost 
a  peasant  type — blonde.  Her  yellow  hair  had  a  beautiful  natural 
roll.  Her  eyes  showed  a  clear  child-like  blue.  Her  face  was  very 
irregular.  When  she  smiled  her  lids  came  together;  her  mirth 
seemed  to  take  tiny  wrinkly  tucks  in  her  skin.  She  would  have 
been  a  little  simian  if  an  occasional  piquancy  of  contour  had 
not  redeemed  her.  And  there  was  a  frank,  clean  fleshliness  about 
her  that  her  good-humoured  look  made  pleasing. 

"  I  bought  two  little  dresses  for  the  baby  in  Oldtown,  Gert," 
Southward  said.  "I  would  have  brought  them  along  if  I  had 
had  any  idea  we  were  going  to  stop  in.  It  was  seeing  the  light 
in  your  window  put  the  idea  into  our  heads." 

"  And  I've  made  two  little  bonnets,"  Hester  murmured.  "  I'll 
bring  them  round  to-morrow." 

Gertie  looked  delighted.     She  murmured  enthusiastic  thanks. 

"  Look  at  that  place  on  the  top  of  his  head  beating  up  and  down," 
Southward  interrupted  them.  "  Makes  me  nervous  to  watch  it 
— it  always  does.  You  seem  to  know  just  how  to  hold  him, 
Gert." 


46  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  Sure !  "  Gert  said  in  a  superior  tone.  "  It  comes  to  you. 
There!  See!  He's  had  enough.  And  about  time."  The  little 
bundle  of  flesh,  apparently  gorged,  dropped  from  feeding  to  imme 
diate  sleep. 

"  You  remember  that  little  kitty — the  one  those  old  maids  the 
Emertons  left  here  ? "  Hester  asked  suddenly,  "  Tabby,  they  called 
her?" 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  remember,"  Gertie  answered.  "  Awful  little — black 
with  white  spots  under  her  chin.  She  was  Mis'  Wallis'  cat 
Bunchy's  kitten.  Bunchy  always  had  nice  kittens." 

"  Well,  she  came  into  our  house  this  morning,"  Hester  went  on, 
"  acting  the  queerest  way — so  troubled  and  unhappy  and  uncer 
tain — why  her  face  was  almost  human  in  its  expression  of  worry. 
She  went  all  over  the  house  from  cellar  to  attic  and  all  the  time 
making  the  strangest  little  noises.  I  kept  taking  her  up  and 
petting  her.  Mother  kept  telling  me  that  she'd  have  her  kittens 
in  the  house  if  I  didn't  take  care.  But  I  couldn't  turn  her  out 
and  finally  I  made  a  little  box  for  her  and  put  it  in  my  closet. 
Then  I  forgot  all  about  her.  When  I  went  up  to  my  room  after 
supper,  there  were  four  little  kittens  in  the  box  beside  her — the 
cunningest  little  things.  She  looked  so  different.  You  never  saw 
a  greater  change  in  a  human  countenance.  She  was  so  serene  and 
quiet.  It  was  really  wonderful,  as  though  she  hadn't  a  care  for 
the  future.  She  even  purred  when  I  took  her  kittens  up." 

"  You  don't,"  Gertie  said,  as  though  involuntarily.  "  It's  won 
derful  though  what  you  feel  like.  Why,  the  first  three  days  after 
that  baby  was  born,  I  didn't  want  to  do  a  thing  but  just  lay  and 
look  at  it.  I  didn't  mind  what  happened.  It  seemed  as  if  every 
thing  was  coming  out  all  right.  It  seemed  as  if  nothing  could  ever 

be  wrong  again.  It  seemed — it  seemed "  she  stopped  as  though 

she  had  reached  the  limit  of  her  articulateness. 

Hester  looked  at  her  intently.  "Well,  that's  the  way  Tabby 
felt." 

"Are  you  going  to  keep  the  kittens?"  Gert  asked. 

"  Oh,  yes — that  is,  all  that  I  can't  give  away.  I  couldn't  drown 
them  after  the  way  Tabby  trusted  me." 

"  Save  one  for  me,  Hester,"  Gert  said.    "  I'll  be  glad  to  have  it." 

Then  as  though  the  conversation  had  gone  long  enough  from 
her  offspring,  she  turned  the  little  purple  wrinkled  face  up  to  her 
visitors.  "  What  do  you  think  of  that  for  a  baby  ? "  she  demanded 
proudly. 

"  Don't  ask  me,  Gert !  "  Southward  made  prompt  reply.  "  I'm 
just  like  a  man.  They  all  look  alike  to  me.  I've  never  seen  one 


THE  LADY  OP  KINGDOMS  47 

that  I  could  call  pretty  yet.    I  will  admit  he  looks  husky  though." 

"  Want  to  hold  him  ?  "  Gertie  asked  hospitably. 

"  Land,  no,"  Southward  protested.  "  I'm  scared  to  death  of 
them." 

"  It's  a  beautiful  baby,  Gert,"  Hester  said.  Involuntarily  her 
long  arms  reached  over.  Gertie  lifted  the  child  into  them.  Hester 
pulled  him  close. 

"  Look  at  her !  "  Gert  smiled  broadly.  "  Takes  to  it  like  a  duck 
to  water.  I'd  have  thought  she'd  brought  up  a  family." 

"  What  are  you  going  to  christen  him,  Gert  ? "  Southward  asked 
idly. 

"  Maurice,"  Gertie  answered.  Her  manner  changed,  became  a 
little  menacing.  Then  with  emphasis.  "Maurice  Beebee!" 

"  Swell  tag  all  right,"  Southward  commented,  still  idly. 

Gert  did  not  answer.  But  her  clear  eyes  had  turned  to  pools 
of  frost.  She  scowled.  "  Go  on,"  she  said  contemptuously.  "  Take 
your  turn.  I  s'pose  that's  what  you  came  for.  Try  to  get  it  out 
of  me." 

Southward  came  upright  from  the  rocking-chair  in  which  she 
had  sprawled.  Hester  stopped  her  gentle  rocking  for  a  frozen 
instant;  then  she  resumed  it,  her  face  crimson,  her  eyes  on  the 
baby's  face. 

"  Gee,  Gert,"  Southward  made  an  explanation  for  both.  "  I 
thought  you  knew  me  better  than  that.  Whatever  I  am,  I'm  not 
a  sneak.  And  I've  always  played  fair.  I  don't  care  who  the 
kid's  father  is.  It  isn't  any  of  my  business.  Hester  feels  the 
same  way.  We  think  it's  up  to  you  to  tell  or  not  to  tell,  just  as 
you  please.  We  called  because  we  like  you.  We  want  to  show 
you  that  we're  not  interfering  or  leaping  to  conclusions." 

The  scowl  rolled  off  Gertie's  forehead.  A  lush  smile  revealed 
a  broad  streak  of  white  between  her  pink  lips.  "  Well,  excuse 
me!"  she  said  heartily.  "I  hadn't  d'oughter  mistrusted  you  the 

way  I  did.  But  if^  you  could  hear  what  folks  have  said  to  me 

I  nearly  told  Sarah  Wallis  to  get  out  of  this  house  the  other  day. 
And  I'll  do  it  yet  if  she  gives  me  any  more  lip.  As  if  it  was  any 
of  her  funeral.  I've  had  the  child  and  I  ain't  shamed  of  it  and 
I'm  going  to  bring  it  up  myself  and,  I  ain't  asking  a  bit  of 
charity  from  anybody.  Pa  says  I  won't  have  to  as  long  as  he 
lives.  He's  crazy  about  the  baby  already." 

"  Good  for  you,  Gert !  "  It  was  as  though  this  came  involun 
tarily  from  Southward  and  she  smiled  as  though  in  temperamental 
sympathy  with  this  declaration  of  independence.  "  That's  just 
the  attitude  I'd  take.  But,  Gert,  don't  misunderstand  me.  I'm 


48  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

not  judging  you  but  I  think  you  were  an  awful  fool  just  the 
same." 

"  Well,  in  a  way  I  suppose  I  was,"  Gertie  said  with  an  unex 
pected  reasonableness.  "  And  then  again Say,  I'm  going  to 

tell  you  girls  something.  And  you  can  put  it  under  your  hat 
and  keep  it  there — but  it's  on  the  level.  The  father  of  that  baby 
doesn't  live  here — thank  the  Lord!  He's  big  and  strong  and 
elegant-looking — not  much  like  any  of  these  pindling  Shayneford 
men.  He  could  lick  three  of  them  with  one  hand  tied.  If  he 
should  come  into  this  room  now,  you'd  envy  me.  This  is 
what  I  want  to  say  to  you.  I  ain't  pretending  he  was  the  first 
one,  although  I  ain't  so  bad  as  a  lot  of  folks  in  this  town  try  to 
make  out. 

"  But  it  was  the  first  time  I  ever  got  this  way.  And  I  could 
have  got  out  of  it.  Oh,  I'm  over  seven  all  right  and  I  know  what 

girls  do.  And  he  said — and  he  offered But  I  wouldn't.  I 

couldn''t.  I  waited  and  waited  and Oh,  I  went  through 

enough.  And  a  good  many  times  I  said  to  myself,  '  I  can't  bring 

a  baby  that  ain't  got  no  father  into  the  world.  I've  got  to ' 

But  after  a  while  that  child  just  seemed  to  be  calling  for  his  life 
inside  me  and  I  couldn't  any  more  refuse  it  than  I  could  have 
committed  murder.  I  didn't  find  it  so  easy,  believe  me,  but  I'm 
glad  now  that  I  went  through  with  it.  It's  a  fine  baby.  The 
doctor  says  so.  Everybody  says  so.  There  won't  be  any  babies 
like  it  in  this  town  for  one  while.  Why  I  could  have  the  pick 
of  twenty  men  to  be  father  to  my  kid."  Her  voice  took  a  sudden 
turn,  swelled  from  a  broken  dry  emotional  assurance  to  excite 
ment  and  triumph.  "  You  jess  think  how  Flora  Tubman  looks 
down  on  me.  And  yet  she's  going  to  marry  that  mutt  of  a  King 

Curtis.  King  Curtis!  Why,  I  could  have I'll  tell  you  this; 

there's  more  than  one  girl  in  this  town  has  taken  my  leavings. 
You  can't  make  me  think  a  pretty  girl  like  Flora  would  have 
chosen  him  if  she  could  have  got  somebody  else.  No,  she  took 
him  because  he's  all  there  was.  She'll  have  a  family  of  children 
all  right  as  fast  as  she  can  have  them.  And  what  will  they  look 
like?  Thin,  homely,  white-livered  kids!  I'll  match  my  baby  with 
any  two  of  them.  Flora  probably  thinks — all  the  other  girls  in 
this  town  probably  think — that  I  feel  cheap  and  ashamed.  Well, 
I  don't.  Not  one  bit  of  it.  Especially  when  I  heft  my  baby  and 
see  what  a  corker  he  is!  I  feel  like  somebody — that's  the  way  I 
feel.  And  I  ain't  going  to  take  any  back  talk  from  nobody.  I 
don't  have  to." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  49 

For  a  long  time  the  two  girls  walked  in  silence. 

"  Goodness,  what  a  strange  confession !  "  Southward  said  at  last. 
Her  tone  was  almost  awed. 

"  I  should  say  it  was,"  Hester  agreed  tremulously.  "  I  feel — 
I  feel — as  if  I'd  been  through  something." 

"  But  it's  such  an  extraordinary  state  of  mind,"  Southward 
went  on.  "  One  thing  she  said  kept  coming  back  to  my  mind  all 
during  that  harangue :  '  I  feel  as  though  I'd  picked  the  father  of 
my  child.  I  took  what  I  wanted.'  Of  all  the  girls  in  this  town, 

Gert  Beebee  alone  can  pick  the  father  of '  Southward  burst 

into  laughter.  She  shook  convulsively.  In  the  end  she  had  to 
lean  up  against  a  fence.  "  Isn't  that  a  scream  when  you  think 
of  it?" 

"  Don't  let  us  think  of  it  any  more."  Hester  did  not  laugh. 
She  still  trembled.  "  I  can't  describe  to  you  how  it's  upset  me. 
To  be  so  close  to  a  thing  like  that.  And  then  her  pride  in  it.  It 
seemed  wicked;  it  seemed  terrible — horrible " 

"  All  right,"  said  Southward  in  her  briskest  and  most  business 
like  tone.  "  I  won't  say  anything  more  about  it.  I'd  like  to  see 
Gert's  idea  of  an  '  elegant-looking  '  man  though.  Brace  up,  Hetter. 
Oh,  here  we  are  at  Matt's.  Want  to  come  in  while  I  get  a  book? " 

"  I'd  love  to,"  Hester  breathed  in  the  tone  of  one  with  whom 
mental  tension  is  relaxing. 

They  turned  towards  a  white  house,  a  little  band-box  of  a 
building,  set  on  a  grassy  terrace — a  small  place,  bordered  with 
a  lilac-hedge.  Up  stone  steps  and  over  square  stepping-stones 
sunk  in  the  grass,  they  approached  a  vine-covered  piazza.  The 
windows  were  all  long.  Two  of  them  gleamed  softly.  Southward 
tapped  on  the  pane.  In  an  instant,  the  white  curtain  flew  up; 
a  volume  of  golden  light  poured  onto  the  piazza,  outlining  the 
figure  of  a  man  between  the  lace  curtains.  Immediately  he 
swung  open  half  the  window,  moved  back.  Southward  and  Hester 
stepped  into  the  room. 

"  Good  evening,  Matthew,"  Southward  said. 

"  Good  evening,"  the  man  answered  in  a  chirping  voice.  "  Who 
is  it?  Oh,  Southward  and  Hester." 

"  Are  you  at  home  ?  "  Southward  asked. 

"It  seems  so.  When  did  you  get  back,  Southward?  To  what 
am  I  indebted? " 

"  This  afternoon.  I  want  another  book."  Southward  answered 
both  questions.  "I  feel  as  though  I  weren't  going  to  sleep  well 
to-night.  Can  I  explore  in  the  book-cases  and  see  what  I  can 
get?" 


50  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  Certainly !  Certainly !  "  Mr.  Hallowell  chirped.  "  Help  your 
self  ! "  He  seated  himself  at  the  table  and  took  up  his  pen.  But 
his  eyes  went  from  one  girl  to  the  other;  he  followed  them  each 
in  turn  with  an  amused  speculative  gaze.  When  he  looked  at 
Southward,  his  eyes  filled  with  a  half-fascinated,  half-irritated 
admiration.  When  he  looked  at  Hester,  they  were  all  pity. 

He  was  an  old  man,  little  and  chubby,  age-bitten  and  frost 
bitten,  like  a  winter-bogle.  His  long  hair  might  have  been  made 
of  the  stuff  of  winter  clouds,  it  was,  in  fibre,  so  smooth  and  downy 
and  yet,  in  mass,  so  solid  and  glittering.  His  eyes  were  as  blue 
and  clear  as  winter  skies,  his  cheeks  as  rosy  and  shining  as  winter 
apples.  He  had  a  long  upper  lip  and  above  it  a  nubbin  of  a  nose 
lifted  upright,  presenting  nostrils  straightforward  like  the  muzzle 
of  a  revolver.  His  look,  even  in  old  age,  retained  a  quality  of 
gaiety  that  was  a  part  the  result  of  the  happy  irregularity  of 
his  features  and  half  a  touch  of  real  glee  in  his  smile.  He  smiled 
now  at  intervals. 

Southward  moved  along  the  line  of  book-cases  on  one  side, 
Hester  on  the  other. 

It  was  a  large  room  full  of  the  character  given  by  a  cleanly, 
systematic  disorder.  Book-cases  lined  the  walls  three-quarters  of 
the  way  up.  They  were  crowded  so  tightly  that  extracting  a  book 
was  a  difficult  proceeding.  Even  then,  they  had  begun  to  overrun 
the  shelves  into  the  room — to  pile  in  tottering  columns  in  the 
corner,  under  the  table,  beside  the  couch.  Italian,  Spanish,  French, 
all  about  lay  magazines  highly-coloured,  cheaply-printed,  every 
one  with  a  scene  of  violence  on  the  covers.  Above  the  line  of 
the  book-shelves  were  pictures  and  bric-a-brac,  the  endearing  hap 
hazard  memorabilia  of  the  European  trips  of  two  generations  ago; 
steel-engravings  of  foreign  scenes  framed  in  faded  gold ;  decorative 
litter  in  alabaster  and  Italian  marble,  wood-carvings,  mosaics, 
a  pair  of  Eoman  lamps.  The  big  central-table  foamed  with 
papers;  these  had  burst  over  onto  a  small  colony  of  tables  that 
surrounded  it.  Indeed,  when  he  wrote,  Mr.  Hallowell  sat  in  the 
midst  of  an  archipelago  of  tables.  The  investigations  of  the  two 
girls  finally  brought  them  back  to  the  table.  The  light  of  the 
green-shaded  reading-lamp  enveloped  them. 

Mr.  Hallowell's  eyebrows  flew  up  suddenly. 

"  What  have  we  here?  "  he  chirped.    "  Two  Chinese  princes?  " 

"  Oh,  I'd  forgotten."  Southward  looked  down  on  her  exotic 
attire.  "  I  guess  I've  never  told  you  about  these  Chinese  coats. 
I  found  oodles  of  them  when  I  cleaned  the  attic  up.  Say,  Matt, 
why  haven't  you  ever  come  to  call  on  us?  Don't  you  realise  that 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  51 

this  invitation  is  an  honour?  Nobody's  ever  seen  this  garret  since 
we  fixed  it  up,  but  Hester  and  me." 

"  Perhaps  I'll  come  sometime,"  Mr.  Hallowell  said,  "  when  I'm 
not  BO  busy." 

"  See  that  you  do !  "  Southward  ordered.  "  How's  The  Rebellions 
of  the  Nineteenth  Century  getting  on?" 

"  Pretty  well,"  Mr.  Hallowell  answered.  "  But  it's  slow  work 
at  best.  How'd  you  like  Herrick?  " 

"  Oh,  great !  "  Southward  replied  with  enthusiasm.  "  That's 
something  for  me  to  say  too,  for  as  a  rule  I  don't  like  love-songs.  I 
must  say  though  he  gets  away  with  it  in  great  style.  There's 
nothing  sweetie  about  him.  I  suppose  one  reason  is  that  there 
are  so  many  Julias  and  Altheas  that  he  never  gets  the  chance  to 
grow  really  mushy.  Perhaps  that's  why  I  liked  him — fellow- 
feeling." 

Mr.  Hallowell  smiled  appreciatively.  "  What  do  you  want  next?  " 
he  asked.  "  Why  don't  you-girls  read  something  serious  together, 
Karl  Marx  for  instance?  I'll  give  you  a  whole  list  of  books  when 
you've  finished  with  him." 

Southward  shook  her  head.  "  Not  for  mine,"  she  said.  "  Too 
much  like  work.  Hester  might." 

Hallowell  turned  to  Hester.  "  Why  don't  you,  Hester  ? "  he 
asked. 

"  I  will,"  Hester  answered.  "  I  don't  think  that  sort  of  stuff 
does  me  any  good  though.  I'm  always  interested,"  she  went  on 
vaguely,  "and  yet  it  doesn't  get  me  anywhere.  It's  so  faraway; 
it  doesn't  touch  me  at  any  point.  I'm  not  the  person  for  it.  I 
can't  connect  it  with  living.  I'd  like  to  make  things  better  in 
the  world  if  I  could.  But  I  can't  see  how  it's  to  be  done.  And 
I'm  too  scared.  Now  Southward  isn't  scared  at  all,  but  she  doesn't 
care." 

"  No,"  said  Southwell,  "  I  don't.  Like  Marjorie  Fleming — not  a 
single  damn.  Matt.  I  confess  I'm  interested  only  to  make  things 
better  for  S.  Drake,  meaning  me.  I've  wasted  twenty-five  years 
of  my  life  already — but  I  intend  to  get  all  that's  coming  to  me 
from  now  on." 

Mr.  Hallowell  had  been  looking  from  one  to  the  other  of  the 
two  girls. 

"  Waste  women !  "  he  commented  suddenly.  Then  after  a  pause. 
"  Well,  you'll  explode  sometime." 

"  I  shan't,"  Hester  said  in  an  intense  tone.  "  I  haven't  the 
courage  of  a  fly.  But  I'm  always  thrilled  by  rebellion  in  others." 

Mr.  Hallowell  smiled  gleefully.     He  rubbed  his  hands  together. 


52  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  Then  this  is  the  best  period  in  the  world's  history  for  you  to 
live,  Hester.  For  everybody's  rebelling.  We're  had  almost  every 
kind  of  trouble.  The  workers  of  the  world,  both  men  and  women, 
are  rebelling  as  workers;  men  are  rebelling  as  men;  women  are 
rebelling  as  women.  We  haven't  had  a  children's  rebellion  yet, 
to  be  sure;  but  I  wouldn't  be  surprised  if  it  came.  There  was 
a  Children's  Crusade  once,  you  know.  You'll  explode  into  rebellion 
some  day,  both  of  you." 

"  If  Southward  and  I  could  be  boiled  down  and  concentrated  into 
one  woman,  we'd  make  a  splendid  rebel,"  Hester  explained,  "  for 
Southward's  all  action  without  theory  and  I'm  all  theory  without 
action.  But  as  we  are  now,  Southward's  action  has  nothing 
altruistic  about  it  and  my  altruism  has  nothing  practical." 

"  Waste  women,"  Mr.  Hallowell  commented  again.  This  time 
his  clear  eyes  turned  sombre.  He  rubbed  his  hands  together,  but 
slowly. 

"  Well,"  Southward  yawned,  "  this  bores  me.  Any  new  books, 
Matt  ?  I  mean  travel  or  expedition  ?  " 

"  No,  but  I'm  expecting  some  this  week." 

"  I  guess  I'll  have  to  take  Dickens  then,"  Southward  decided. 
"  It's  about  time  I  read  him  all  over  again.  Don't  bother,  Matt. 
I  know  where  he  is."  She  walked  to  one  of  the  book-cases,  ran 
her  finger  along  a  line  of  old-fashioned,  dingy-looking  novels, 
pulled  one  out  with  a  decided  jerk.  She  opened  it,  ruffled  the 
pages.  "  Oh,  how  I  do  adore  Sairy  Gamp !  "  she  commented.  "  I 
eat  her  up."  She  sped  rapidly  through  a  paragraph.  Then  with 
her  hand  clutching  the  book,  she  fell  into  revery. 

Mr.  Hallowell  craned  his  neck  to  look  after  her.  His  eyes  held 
many  expressions — wonder,  interest,  perplexity — irritation  even — 
but  they  were  all  fused  by  fascination.  Southward  stood  still, 
her  eyes  fixed  on  the  distance.  But  now  she  was  humming  lightly. 
A  shimmer  as  of  melted  silrer  had  come  into  her  eyes.  Between 
the  raspberry-red  of  her  lips  appared  just  a  blue-pearl  suggestion 
of  her  teeth. 

Mr.  Hallowell's  perplexity  broke  into  frank  amusement.  "  What 
are  you  up  to,  Southward  ? "  he  demanded. 

"  Oh,  nothing,"  Southward  answered.  But  now  she  was  defi 
nitely  smiling.  Her  look  was  that  of  one  who  is  decidedly  "  up  " 
to  something.  "  I've  only  got  to  make  a  conquest  of  four  men — 
that's  all,  Matt — new  ones  to  boot — just  arrived." 

Mr.  Hallowell  smiled  appreciatively.    "  Poor  devils !  " 

"  But  remember,  Matt,"  Southward  said,  "  you're  the  one  I  really 
lore." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  53 

Mr.  Hallowell  smiled  again. 

"  Well,  I  must  be  going,"  said  Hester. 

"  And  I,"  echoed  Southward.  "  I  expect  I'll  be  in  every  night 
to  see  you  until  those  books  arrive,  Matt." 

"  All  right,"  said  Mr.  Hallowell.  "  Come  as  often  as  you  want." 
He  took  up  his  pen.  Before  the  girls  had  disappeared  through 
the  window,  he  had  gone  deep  into  his  work. 

"  Come  over  to-morrow  night,  Hetter,"  Southward  said,  outside. 

"  Yes — about  seven  as  usual." 

"  And  don't  worry  about  what  your  mother  says.  It's  not  worth 
worrying  about." 

"  No,  I  won't  worry.  It  doesn't  bother  me  really.  I  had  for 
gotten  it." 

"  To-morrow,  then  ?  " 

11  To-morrow." 

Partway  up  the  road,  Southward  turned  suddenly,  flashed  her 
light  back  of  her.  A  thickening  bulk  drew  from  out  of  the 
shadow,  became  human,  and  hurried  to  her  side. 

"  I  thought  it  was  you,  Lysander,"  Southward  said. 

The  young  man  who  struck  into  the  radius  of  her  torch  was 
a  typical  rural  product;  but  he  was  none  the  less  a  vigorous  and 
picturesque  specimen.  His  blue  flannel  shirt  set  off  a  splendid 
pair  of  shoulders,  his  long  tight-fitting  black-leather  boots  a  fine 
pair  of  legs.  A  well-shaped  head  topped  his  tall  erect  strong- 
looking  figure.  The  innocuous  regularity  of  his  features  broke 
in  a  peculiarly  winning  smile.  He  was  blond  and  profusely 
freckled;  the  blue  of  his  eyes  as  clear,  the  pink  of  his  cheeks 
as  pure,  the  white  of  his  teeth  as  milky  as  country  air  and  fare 
could  make  them.  His  thick-curling  hair,  parted  at  one  side, 
carefully  reached,  and  imprinting  a  perfect  arc  of  gold  on  his 
shaven  neck,  must  have  been  the  pride  of  the  Shayneford  barber. 

"Where  are  you  going,  Southward?"  he  asked. 

"  Home.  Hester  came  over  to-night.  Then  I  walked  a  piece 
with  her.  What  time  is  it?" 

"  Not  so  very  late.  A  little  after  ten.  Heard  about  those  city 
folks  over  to  Long  Pond  ? " 

"  Yes,  grandfather  told  me  about  them  to-night.  Who  are  they 
and  what  do  they  do  ?  Do  you  like  them  ? " 

"Yes — first-class.  They  seem  like  regular  guys.  Joshing  all 
day  long.  Half  the  time  you  can't  tell  what  they  do  mean  from 
what  they  don't  mean.  Cameron,  he's  a  newspaper-man.  O'Eeilly 
travels  and  writes  books.  Fearing  is  a  sort  of  sky-pilot — lectures. 


54  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

That  other  fellow,  Smith — I  don't  exactly  know  what  he  does — 
works  for  a  living,  I  guess." 

Southward  smiled  her  appreciation  of  this  sarcasm.  "  Well,  I 
suppose  I'll  meet  them  all  in  the  course  of  time." 

"  Oh,  yes,  by  another  week  they'll  all  be  running  after  you."  A 
sullen  note  forced  itself  into  Lysander's  voice. 

Southward  ignored  it.    "  How  long  are  they  going  to  be  here  ? " 

"  Oh,  a  month  or  six  weeks.  They  didn't  seem  quite  sure  them 
selves." 

A  silence  fell.  Southward  walked  along,  swinging  her  light 
absently,  cutting  strange  geometric  patterns  on  the  road  and  on 
the  bushes.  Lysander  watched  her. 

"  Southward,"  Lysander  said  after  a  while,  "  I've  made  up  my 
mind  to  one  thing  to-night.  I'm  going  to  ask  you  to  marry  me 
and  when  you  give  me  your  answer,  it's  final.  See?  I'm  not 
going  to  ask  you  again." 

"  All  my  answers  have  been  final,  Lysander,"  Southward  said 
with  an  uncharacteristic  gentleness  but  her  usual  directness.  "  So 
don't  ask  me  now.  You  know  I  like  you,  Ly.  I  like  you  better 
than  any  man  in  Shayneford.  I'd  rather  go  off  with  you  for  a 
ride,  or  a  tramp  or  swimming  or  fishing  than  anybody  I  can 
think  of.  But  I  don't  love  you.  And  I  can't  marry  you." 

They  had  come  to  the  point  where  the  road  turned  into  the 
North  Lane. 

Southward  halted. 

"  That's  final,"  Lysander  said.  "  Eemember,  I'll  never  ask  you 
again." 

"  Yes,  it's  final,"  Southward  reiterated  firmly. 

"  I'll  walk  to  the  house  with  you,"  Lysander  remarked. 

"  No,  thanks.    I  prefer  to  be  alone.    Good  night." 

"  Night,"  Lysander  echoed.  He  did  not  move,  but  he  spat  medi 
tatively.  He  stood  there  until  Southward's  quick  retreating  foot 
steps  died  in  the  distance. 


CHAPTER  V 

LONG  LANES  presented  a  front  of  an  unameliorated  gloom  as 
Southward  approached.  But  when  she  opened  the  door,  a  gleam 
of  light  shot  from  the  left.  Simultaneously,  "  That  you,  South 
ward  ?  "  came  her  grandmother's  voice. 

"  Yes,  grandmother." 

"  Did  you  go  way  home  with  Hester  ? " 

"  No,  only  as  far  as  Mr.  Hallowell'a.  I  stopped  in  there  and 
got  a  book." 

"  What  d'he  have  to  offer? " 

"  Nothing — much,  grandmother." 

"  Be  you  going  to  read  all  night  long  ?  You'll  git  awful  homely 
if  you  lose  all  your  beauty  sleep  every  night  the  way  you  do." 

"  No,  I  won't  read  long.  In  fact,  I  think  I'll  go  in  swimming 
instead.  That  breeze  has  died  down  and  it's  awfully  hot  and 
sticky.  I  don't  feel  like  going  to  bed." 

"  Nor  me.    There  ain't  a  drop  of  sleep  in  my  body." 

"  Can  I  do  anything  for  you,  grandmother  ?  " 

"No."  Mrs.  Drake  admitted  it  reluctantly.  "Charlotte,  she 
jess  give  me  a  good  rubbing.  Mis'  Ellis  came  this  evening  while 
you  was  out.  She  brought  the  Westbury  Citizen  over.  I've  been 
a-reading  it."  Mrs.  Drake  went  on  at  a  galloping  rate,  as  though 
she  had  been  waiting  for  just  this  opportunity  for  mental  exercise. 
"  Old  Mis'  Bassett  of  Westbury  Centre  is  dead  and  them  Cahoons, 
you  know  that  awful  shiftless  lot,  lost  their  youngest  child.  Mumps 
— warn't  that  terrible?  Caught  cold — my  sister  Sabry  allus  said  it 
was  terrible  to  ketch  cold  if  you  had  the  mumps.  Mis'  Ellis  told 
me  about  it — head  swelled  up  like  a  bucket.  She  said  it  was  the 
worse-looking  corpse  for  a  child  she  ever  see.  And  that  Nye 
fellow — that  peakid-looking,  light-complected  one,  he's  dead.  I 
ain't  read  so  much  news  in  a  year  and  I  ain't  got  through  all 
the  paper  yet.  I  allus  reads  the  deaths  first.  I  enjoy  them  the 
most." 

Southward  leaned  against  the  door  and  shook  silently.  "  Yes, 
grandmother,"  she  said  in  muffled  tones. 

"  I'm  going  to  read  the  rest  of  it  to-morrow  night.  I  presume 
I  can  go  to  sleep  now.  You  be  keerful  about  swimming  too  far 
out — won't  you,  Southward  ?  " 

66 


56  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"Yes,  grandmother." 

"  I  declare  I  don't  understand  how  you  can  go  into  the  water  at 
night.  I'd  be  scared  half  out  of  my  senses." 

"  If  you  could  swim  the  way  I  can,  you  wouldn't  mind,"  South 
ward  explained. 

"  My  sister  Sabry  told  me  of  a  case  of  a  man  who  went  in 
bathing  one  night  just  back  of  their  house.  They  all  sat  on  the 
back  porch  and  watched  him.  He  was  swimming  all  right  but 
suddenly  up  went  his  hands  and  down  went  his  head.  Well,  sir, 
before  they  could  get  to  him,  he  was  dead — whether  it  was  heart- 
disease  or  cramp  nobody  never  knew.  But  they  rolled  him  over 
a  barrel  for  hours.  It  don't  take  long  to  drown." 

"  I  know,  grandmother,  but  I'm  always  very  careful  and  I  never 
had  cramp  in  my  life.  Good  night." 

"  Good  night." 

But  Southward  did  not  go  in  swimming  immediately.  She 
moved  about  the  garret,  removing  the  wine-glasses  and  cigarettes, 
putting  books  back,  straightening  the  magazines  and  piling  up 
papers.  She  worked  more  as  one  under  the  urge  of  action  than 
the  necessity  of  neatness,  and  her  eyes  were  preoccupied.  But 
her  reflections  were  obviously  pleasurable;  she  hummed  without 
cessation;  and  occasionally,  she  made  a  little  dancing  pas  seuL 
After  a  while,  she  undressed,  drew  on  her  bathing-suit.  One  piece 
and  virtually  sleeveless,  it  was  black,  close-fitting,  cut  round  and 
low  in  the  neck,  ending  in  knee  tights  and  a  short,  scant  black 
skirt.  She  pulled  a  rubber-cap  close  over  her  head,  tucked  all  her 
hair  under  it.  Then  she  stole  quietly  downstairs. 

There  was  no  light  now  in  her  grandmother's  room.  From 
three  directions  came  soporific  murmurings.  Southward  crept 
silently  into  the  kitchen  and  out  the  back  way.  A  little  path  ran 
straight  from  the  door,  through  the  grape-arbour,  past  the  orchard 
to  the  pond.  There  the  water  lapped  and  rippled  on  a  tiny  sandy 
beech. 

The  moon  had  come  out.  But  a  surge  of  cloud  had  swept  over 
it,  veiling  it  in  heavy  muffling  folds;  stars,  sprinkled  thickly, 
floated  over  the  rest  of  the  sky.  Except  for  a  long  smeared 
reflection  here  and  there,  the  pond  lay  dim,  vague,  mysterious. 
Near,  the  pines  seemed  to  be  crowding  close  down  to  the  water's 
edge,  as  though  jealously  preserving  its  mystery;  some  had  waded 
in,  were  standing  knee-deep.  Far  away,  the  outlines  of  the  pond 
were  lost;  it  stretched  on  illimitably,  apparently  bounded  only  by 
the  confines  of  space. 

Southward  stood  a  moment  looking  about  her.    She  still  hummed, 


57 

and  her  eyes  still  smiled.  Then  she  ran  down  the  frail,  slanting, 
wooden  platform  that  projected  into  the  water,  and  with  a  sudden 
lithe  fling  of  her  supple  body,  went  overboard.  Her  dire  made 
so  clean  a  hole  in  the  pond  that  it  was  accompanied  by  almost 
no  splash;  it  was  more  as  though  the  surface  opened  for  her. 
She  swam  for  an  interval  under  water,  came  up  gasping.  She 
made  back  rapidly  to  the  pier,  held  herself  there  with  one  arm. 
With  the  other  she  pulled  the  rubber-cap  off  and  tossed  it  onto 
the  boards.  The  mass  of  her  hair  had  survived  the  plunge  unwet ; 
about  her  brow  it  glittered  dimly.  The  rest  had  been  plastered  to 
her  head  in  an  odd  boyish  flatness. 

With  long  leisurely  strokes,  she  made  toward  the  centre  of  the 
pond.  The  moon  was  still  fighting  its  way  over  the  rampart  of 
cloud.  Beyond  lay  a  sea  of  sky,  clear,  black,  loaded  with  stars. 
Suddenly  the  moon  emerged,  dragging  wisps  of  vapour  torn  away 
in  its  struggle  with  the  clouds,  plunged  serenely  into  this  jet- 
black  sea.  It  was  as  though  the  moon  exploded.  Many  of  the 
stars  went  out  like  blown  candles.  That  jet-black  sea  became  a  blue 
ocean,  brilliantly  illuminate.  The  moon  came  to  the  surface. 
One  by  one  the  wefts  of  cloud  dropped  away.  It  sailed  stately, 
unimpeded  like  a  ship  in  full  sail.  After  a  while  it  dropped 
a  silver  propeller  which  swept  the  surface  of  the  water  like  a 
blade.  The  effect  was  magic.  That  propeller  whipped  away  the 
gloom  that  enveloped  the  pond,  drove  it  in  a  thick  murky  tide 
under  the  trees.  The  circle  of  the  shore  pricked  through,  com 
pleted  itself.  The  pond  lay  smooth  as  a  plane  of  polished  agate, 
frank  as  a  mirror. 

Southward  swam  on  and  on. 

When  she  employed  the  breast-stroke,  she  went  forward  with 
swift  driving  jerks.  She  carried  her  head  high,  well  out  of  water. 
A  line  of  white  throat  was  always  visible,  swelling  faintly  as 
though  bridled.  Occasionally  she  turned  over  on  one  side.  Then 
her  head  ducked,  sank  into  the  hollow  of  her  shoulder.  Nothing 
was  visible  but  a  long  lithe  line  of  body  and  one  slim  white 
muscular  arm,  pulling  her  forward.  At  intervals,  she  floated; 
supine  or  prone;  it  was  apparently  equally  easy.  Or  turning  on 
her  back,  she  propelled  herself  forward,  sitting  almost  upright. 
She  progressed  without  unnecessary  movement  and  with  no  waste 
of  energy,  with  the  steady  sinuous  movement  of  a  water-creature. 
It  was  that  way  with  every  movement  Southward  made;  she 
accomplished  it  in  the  briefest  possible  time  and  with  the  minimum 
of  effort.  To  watch  her  was  to  get  an  impression  not  only  of  over 
brimming  vitality,  of  high  reservoirs  of  energy  that  had  never 


58  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

been  touched,  but  of  an  extraordinary  instinctive  physical 
efficiency. 

That  ocean  of  light  on  which  it  had  now  embarked  seemed  to 
polish  the  moon  to  a  greater  brilliance.  It  dropped  onto  the  pond 
a  trail  of  silver  scales  that  lay  glittering  and  flittering  half  in 
and  half  out  of  the  water.  It  picked  out  spots  in  the  wooded 
shores  for  special  illumination;  here  the  bole  of  a  virgin  birch, 
swaying  nude  among  the  pines;  there  a  thread  of  brook  stealing 
with  silver  footsteps  under  the  trees ;  yonder  a  glossy  parasite  vine 
that  turned  to  a  cascade  of  tangible  light. 

Southward  still  swam  on. 

Suddenly  she  suspended  all  movement.  She  held  herself  still. 
She  gazed  about  her.  She  seemed  to  sit  upright  in  the  water — 
that  instant  in  which  she  craned  to  survey  the  scene.  Her  ex 
pression  was  a  listening  one.  Apparently  she  heard  nothing,  saw 
nothing.  She  settled  back  into  the  water,  sank  her  head  on  her 
shoulder,  swam.  But  after  another  interval — it  was  as  though 
an  electric  signal  had  been  flashed  under  the  surface — she  stopped 
again,  rose  half-way  out  of  the  water,  craned.  Paddling  gently, 
she  raked  the  pond  in  every  direction  with  her  keen  gaze. 

Her  eyes  fastened  in  an  instant  on  something  that  stirred  the 
water  just  ahead — a  black  object  that  came  steadily  forward. 
Suddenly  this  object  raised  above  the  level  of  the  pond,  turned, 
and  disclosed  a  face.  "  Hi,  John  I  "  a  man's  voice  hailed  her. 

Southward  did  not  move.  "  It  isn't  John,"  she  called  promptly 
in  her  clear  boyish  voice. 

"  It  isn't,"  the  voice  answered,  palpably  disappointed.  "  Then 
who  the  devil  is  it  ? "  The  head  continued  to  draw  nearer,  pro 
pelled  by  a  magnificent  vigour. 

Southward  did  not  answer.  But  she  turned,  sank  her  head  into 
the  curve  of  her  shoulder,  made  in  leisurely — perhaps  a  shade 
more  leisurely  fashion — homewards. 

The  moon  drew  under  an  ice-floe  on  the  further  shore  of  the 
blue  ocean.  The  blue  ocean  turned  again  to  an  agate  sea.  The 
shore  of  the  pond  lost  itself  in  an  impenetrable  murk.  The  pond 
turned  to  jet.  The  stars  came  out  by  ones,  by  twos,  pricked  through 
the  agate,  dropped  long  smeared  pear-shaped  reflections  on  the  jet ; 
came  out  by  scores,  by  myriads,  covered  the  agate  sea  with  a  silver 
stencilling;  dropped  to  the  jetty  pond  a  clear-cut  silver  pattern. 

The  head  came  nearer  and  nearer,  drew  alongside.  Southward 
turned  and  looked  at  the  invader  of  her  solitude.  His  hair 
glimmered  sleekly,  his  face  was  for  an  instant  so  deep  in  shadow 
that  it  was  non-existent. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  59 

Then  two  triangular  flashes  set  eyes  in  that  shadow.  A  jag  of 
phosphorescence  made  a  smile.  A  big  white  splash,  cut  by  a 
jersey  strap,  became  a  shoulder.  A  smaller  patch,  equally  luminous, 
that  clawed  the  water,  turned  into  a  hand. 

"  Well,  my  lad,"  the  man  said,  "  you're  a  good  swimmer." 
There  was  a  touch  of  patronage  in  the  tone,  but  the  voice 
was  a  pleasant  one.  It  was  young  and  decisive  and  it  held 
a  swinging  element  of  command,  even  when  it  made  this  simple 
statement.  "  How  do  you  happen  to  be  in  the  water  at  this 
hour?" 

Southward's  face  was  equally  shadowy.  It  would  have  been 
impossible,  because  of  her  obscuring  shoulder,  to  get  more  than 
the  flick  of  her  smile  and  the  gleam  of  her  eyes.  "  Well,  it's  the 
only  chance  I  get,"  she  answered  with  the  undertone  of  surliness 
of  one  whose  right  is  being  questioned.  "  I  work  in  the  grocery- 
store  all  day,  and  at  night  I  feel  like  taking  a  swim." 

They  were  now  on  a  level,  Southward  on  her  right  side,  her  head 
turned  towards  the  stranger;  he  on  his  left  side,  his  head  turned 
towards  her. 

"  I  should  think  you  would,"  the  stranger  agreed.  "  I  only 
asked  because  as  far  as  I  could  gather,  we  were  the  only  ones 
who  ever  went  swimming  in  this  pond." 

"  You  one  of  those  fellows  camping  on  the  other  side  ? "  South 
ward  asked. 

"  Yes,  my  name's  Cameron — Dwight  Cameron." 

"  Mine's  Uriah  Snow,"  offered  Southward.  Uriah  Snow  was  the 
village  idiot.  The  darkness  received  and  obscured  the  rich  smile 
which  Southward  shot  into  it. 

"  One  of  our  men,  Smith — the  only  one  who  is  here  at  present — 
disappeared  from  camp  an  hour  ago.  He  said  something  about 
going  in  bathing  before  he  went.  I  got  so  warm  I  thought  I'd  come 
out  and  join  him.  I  never  thought  to  look  to  see  if  his  bathing- 
suit  was  there.  Haven't  seen  any  other  fellow  swimming,  have 
you  ? " 

"  Nope,"  answered  Southward. 

"  He  went  for  a  walk  then,"  Cameron  commented  to  himself. 
"  The  short-sport." 

"  Why  I've  swum  in  this  pond  pretty  nigh  every  night  in 
summer  for  five  years,"  Southward  went  on,  "  and  this  is  the 
first  time  I  ever  met  anybody  here.  Pretty  nigh  skeered  me  to 
death  when  I  saw  you  coming.  First  I  thought  it  was  a  dog, 
then  I  thought  it  was  a  deer.  We  get  them  sometimes  in  the 
fall." 


60  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Her  companion  made  no  comment.  He  turned  now  on  his  other 
side,  his  face  away  from  her.  He  was  swimming  slowly;  South 
ward  had  no  difficulty  in  keeping  up  with  him. 

"  Nice  little  town  you've  got  here,"  he  said  finally. 

"Think  so?"  Southward  drawled.    "Glad  you  like  it." 

"  I  suppose  you  have  pretty  good  times  in  the  winter  ? " 

"  Great  Scott,  I  should  say  we  did."  Southward  pumped  a  great 
deal  of  rustic  fervour  into  her  voice.  "In  the  winter,  it's  great. 
The  church  has  sociables  every  two  weeks.  And  sometimes  we 
have  a  lecture.  And  when  there's  snow,  we  allus  have  sleigh- 
parties." 

"  Sociables,"  the  young  man  quoted.  "  What  a  quaint  word ! 
I've  heard  my  mother  use  it.  She  was  a  New  Englander — 
Plymouth  woman." 

"  Where  you  from  ?  "  Uriah  Snow  asked. 

"  God's  country,"  Cameron  said  with  emphasis.  "  The  West ! 
Vermont  originally — Colorado  since,  New  York  now.  But  you 
were  telling  me  what  you  did  winters  here." 

"  Sometimes  we  have  lectures.  And  sometimes  travelling- 
shows  come  here.  We  have  a  movie-house.  Last  winter  they  gave 
two  performances  a  week.  Next  year  they're  going  to  try  to  run 
three." 

"  My  God,  what  a  whirl !  "  Cameron  commented.  And  now  for 
an  obvious  instant  he  was  making  game  of  his  rustic  companion. 
"  Good  place  for  a  fellow  to  be  quiet  in  if  he  wanted  to  write," 
he  said  more  seriously,  half  to  himself. 

"  Oh,  no,  mister,"  Southward  commented  with  simplicity,  "  he 
couldn't  be  quiet  here  in  the  winter-time.  Why,  there's  times 
when  a  fellow's  up  until  eleven  o'clock  three  or  four  nights  a 
week." 

Cameron  spluttered  violently.  But  Southward  did  not  exude 
a  breath  of  the  mirth  which,  in  spite  of  herself,  rippled  over 
her  face.  "  Sometimes,"  she  continued  recklessly,  "  I  think  if 
I  ever  marry  and  settle  down  I'm  going  to  a  quieter  place. 
I  wouldn't  like  to  bring  up  a  family  where  there's  so  much  excite 
ment." 

At  this,  Cameron  laughed  frankly.  And,  "  Very  commendable 
idea,"  he  managed  to  say  after  a  while. 

They  swam  for  another  interval  of  silence. 

"  Say,  Snow,"  Cameron  began  again  briskly,  "  who's  that  girl 
who  lives  in  the  big  white-and-yellow  house  down  beyond  the  Post 
Office?" 

"  Dark? "  Southward  queried,  "  and  skinny?  " 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  61 

"  Not  skinny  exactly — slim — brunette — yes,  wears  a  pink 
sweater." 

"  Oh,"  Southward  drawled,  "  that's  Pearl  Wallis." 

"  Mighty  pretty  girl !  "  Cameron  commented  carelessly.  "  Pearl 
Wallis.  All  right!  Well  now  who's  the  tall  one  with  the  red 
hair?  I  don't  know  where  she  lives  but  I've  seen  her  turning  into 
the  big  weather-beaten  house  next  to  the  church — the  one  with 
the  gambrel  roof  and  the  trumpet  vine." 

"  I  get  you,"  Southward  answered.  "  Pinkie  Peters.  Wears  a 
green  and  white  blazer  ?  " 

"  That's  the  one !  Peters !  Peters !  Pinkie  Peters !  Pearl 
Wallis  and  Pinkie  Peters.  I're  got  them.  Now  who's  the  plump 
one?  Runs  with  Miss  Peters  quite  a  bit — laughs  all  the  time." 

"  Flora  Tubman.    Lots  of  pretty  girls  in  this  town,  ain't  there?  " 

"  I  should  say.  Now  let  me  get  that.  Tubman — Flora  Tubman. 
Who's  the  little  dark  one — glasses — two  braids  of  hair — looks  like 
an  Indian? " 

"  Mercy  Brewster.  Say,  I  can  give  you  a  knock-down  to  any 
one  of  those  girls  if  you  want  I  should." 

"  Sure !    I'm  for  that !    When  will  you  pull  it  off  ?  " 

"  Any  evening.  I  tell  you  what.  They  all  go  to  the  Post  Office 
every  night  to  the  last  mail.  I'll  be  there  to-morrow  night.  Get 
along  about  half-past  five." 

"  All  right.  How'll  we  know  each  other  ?  I  couldn't  tell  you 
in  this  light  from  Adam." 

"  You  pick  out  the  man  with  the  biggest  crop  of  freckles  in 
the  place — and  that's  me.  Say,  know  anything  that'll  take  freckles 
off?  I've  tried  everything  I  ever  heard  of." 

"  No,  I  don't,"  Cameron  answered  with  a  becoming  gravity. 
"  I'm  sorry." 

There  came  another  long  silence. 

"  Where  do  you  get  off,  Snow  ? "    Cameron  broke  it  finally. 

"  The  little  jetty  ahead,  Cameron,"  Southward  replied.  "  You 
can't  see  it  but  I  can  because  I  know  it's  there.  My  house  sets 
jess  back  among  the  trees.  Guess  I'll  turn  in  now.  Good  night !  " 

"  Hold  on !  I'll  go  as  far  as  your  station,"  Cameron  offered. 
"  How  long  a  swim  is  it  across  this  pond  ?  " 

"  About  half  a  mile." 

"  Just  a  tidy  little  hike  here  and  back,"  Cameron  commented, 
"  I  guess  I'll  have  to  do  this  every  night  after  this.  We'll 
probably  meet  quite  often,  Snow." 

"  Shouldn't  wonder,"  Southward  agreed.  "  Hope  we  do, 
Cameron." 


62  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

They  made  the  rest  of  the  way  in  silence.  Southward  pulled 
herself  out  of  the  water  and  onto  the  boards  with  a  single  athletic 
heave  of  her  body.  "  Good  night,"  she  called. 

"  Good  night,"  said  Cameron.  He  started  to  paddle  backwards, 
his  face  towards  her. 

At  that  moment  the  moon  emerged  from  its  polar  floe.  Clean 
as  snow,  clear  as  glass,  it  washed  the  scene  with  white  fire.  The 
light  ran  over  Southward's  sleek  head,  over  her  slim  figure  with 
its  budding  salience  of  curve  to  the  narrow  skirt  which  barely 
touched  her  knees. 

Cameron  emitted  a  shrill  whistle,  a  muttered,  "  My "  that 

cut  itself  off  half-way,  and  then  a  clear  though  embarrassed,  "  I 
say!  I  beg  your  pardon.  But  you  fooled  me  complete." 

Southward's  only  answer  was  a  jet  of  mischievous  laughter. 
She  laughed  all  the  way  up  to  the  house.  She  laughed  all  the 
way  up  to  the  garret.  She  was  still  laughing  when  she  sank  into 
bed.  She  fell  asleep  with  a  smile  on  her  lips. 


CHAPTER  VI 

ALONE,  Hester  Crowell  began  to  slacken  the  pace  which  South 
ward  had  set  for  her.  The  hand  that  held  the  electric  torch 
dropped  listlessly  to  her  side.  Her  gait  took  on  the  lassitude  and 
uncertainty  that  always  marked  it  when  she  was  the  guide  of  her 
own  locomotion.  Her  head  drooped.  Occasionally,  she  stopped 
and  surveyed  the  scene.  Here  her  eye  caught  on  a  tree  shape, 
thick  enough  to  cut  off  the  sky  as  with  an  enormous  opaque  wing 
or  thin  enough  to  spread  across  it  a  delicate  intricate  tracery  of 
limb  and  leaf;  there  it  dwelt  on  some  cloud-shape,  mountainous 
and  inky-black,  or  stretching  into  thin  strands  and  wefts  that 
tangled  and  smothered  the  stars. 

She  was  getting  towards  the  middle  of  the  town.  Houses  began 
to  draw  closer  arid  closer,  to  come  nearer  to  the  road;  big  square 
bulks;  smaller  ones,  slanting  or  gambrel-roof ed ;  white  and  trim; 
vague  and  weather-coloured.  Fences  here  and  there  placed  parallel 
streaks  of  white  between  her  and  the  gardens  which,  however 
they  varied  in  regard  to  flower-smells,  always  emitted  the  odour 
of  box.  Here,  rows  of  round  beach-stones,  painted  white,  marked 
out  paths;  there  the  jaws  of  a  whale,  also  painted  white,  indi 
cated  entrances.  Yonder  the  figurehead  of  a  ship  glimmered 
phantom-like  in  the  gloom.  Longer  spaces  came  between  the 
trees  now,  and  the  trees  themselves  looked  bigger  and  older. 
Even  at  night,  they  seemed  more  cared-for  than  the  wild 
growths  she  had  just  left.  Everywhere  the  wine-glass  elm  drew 
its  exquisite  shape  upon  the  sky.  Hester  passed  the  huge  rectangle 
of  white  that  was  the  Unitarian  Church,  and  which  shot  a  gleaming 
graceful  spire  among  the  stars;  a  little  cluster  of  stores.  A  sign 
showed  black  lettering  here  and  there;  a  tattered  circus  poster 
waved  from  a  shed;  more  houses,  closer  and  closer  together. 
Presently  the  houses  began  to  separate  again,  to  retreat  from  the 
road.  The  smell  of  box  and  of  late  August  flowers  came  only 
on  a  convenient  breeze.  The  trees  by  the  side  of  the  road  huddled 
together;  not  so  big,  so  plethoric,  or  so  pendulous.  After  a  while 
woods  began  to  line  both  sides  of  the  road.  The  road  itself 
roughened.  Hester  stumbled  now  and  then. 

At  last  she  stopped  at  an  opening  on  her  right — a  narrow  path 

63 


64  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

\vhich  apparently  led  into  dense  woods.  She  paused  a  moment, 
idly  squirting  the  light  into  the  bushy  areas  about  her.  After 
a  while,  she  turned  in.  At  first  the  path  was  smooth,  though 
narrow;  then  it  grew  rougher.  Hester  still  walked  with  her  eyes 
down. 

Suddenly  she  stopped,  and  lifted  her  head  like  a  deer  snuffing 
the  air.  She  stood  stock-still  an  instant;  then  raising  her  light 
high,  stood,  looking  keenly  ahead.  There  was  nothing  in  sight, 
but  Hester  did  not  move.  She  listened  intently. 

"  Hullo,  there ! "  a  man's  voice  called  presently.  A  shape — it 
seemed  only  a  degree  less  black  than  the  surrounding  shadow — 
detached  itself  from  the  sooty  background  and  bore  slowly  down 
upon  her.  Hester  waited. 

"  Hullo  there !  "  the  shape  called  again.  "  Wait  a  moment, 
please."  Its  tone  was  peremptory,  but  pleasant. 

Hester  did  not  answer.  But  she  waited.  She  directed  her  light 
over  the  path.  The  stranger  came  forward  briskly  now. 

"  Oh,  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  called  from  a  little  distance.  His 
voice  lost  its  peremptory  ring.  "  I  thought  you  were  a  man — I 

had  no  idea  it  was  a "  He  stopped  short.  His  words  dried 

on  his  lips.  He  was  now  within  vision  of  the  yellow  mandarin 
coat,  the  peacock  embroidery,  the  little  mirrors  winking  feebly 
in  the  diluted  light,  the  long  braid  of  hair  that  curled  over  Hester's 
shoulder  and  hung  to  her  very  ankles,  the  silver  hairpins  in  her 
hand.  "  — a  Chinese  princess,"  he  concluded. 

Hester  did  not  speak.  She  looked  inquiringly  at  him.  By 
degrees,  the  dim  light  brought  out  the  details  of  his  appearance. 
He  was  tall,  he  was  dark;  he  wore  trousers  of  white  duck,  a  sack- 
coat  of  navy-blue,  a  Panama  hat.  A  single  vigorous  gesture  had 
swept  his  hat  from  his  head  and,  in  passing,  a  pipe  from  his 
mouth.  Now  he  stood  holding  these  two  objects,  leaning  at  the 
hip  against  his  stick.  His  pose  was  extraordinarily  easy;  he  was 
no  more  encumbered  with  these  things  than  with  the  air  itself. 

"  I'm  lost,"  he  explained.  "  I'm  a  stranger  in  Shayneford.-  We're 
camping  on  the  other  side  of  Long  Pond.  I  started  out  in  the 
early  evening.  I've  had  a  delightful  walk  but  I  can't  get  any 
where.  Does  this  lead  to  the  main  road,  please  ?  " 

There  was  something  baffling  about  him.  He  had  a  long  hand 
some  regularity  of  feature  that  seemed  to  match  the  long  graceful 
muscularity  of  his  figure.  And  just  as  his  pose  was  easy,  his  smile 
was  easy.  Again  just  as  an  underlying  strength  and  capacity  for 
speed  seemed  ready  to  burst  through  the  ease  of  his  attitude,  some 
inner  turbulence  seemed  threatening  always  to  flame  through  the 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  65 

quiet  of  his  pleasant  smile.  Already  that  interior  fire  had  scorched 
his  hair  white  at  the  temples,  had  burned  lines  at  the  corners  of  his 
eyes,  hollows  under  them. 

"  Yes,"  Hester  answered  him.  "  Not  more  than  three  minutes' 
walk.  Would  you  like  me  to  take  you  to  the  turning  ?  This  light 
helps  a  little." 

"  No,  I  won't  trouble  you."  The  stranger  said  this  slowly,  a  little 
hesitatingly.  His  smile  had  gone  out.  Without  its  light,  his  eyes 
became  sombre,  his  lips  enigmatic.  "  At  least  I  can't  justify 
myself  in  troubling  you.  It's  very  good  of  you  though."  His 
smile  flashed  again;  his  face  was  all  light  and  life. 

"  Oh,  not  at  all,"  Hester  said  formally.    "  Good  night." 

"  Good  night." 

,  Hester  moved  briskly  in  her  direction.  The  stranger  moved 
briskly  in  his.  But  after  an  interval,  his  head  turned  over  his 
shoulder  and  he  followed  the  circle  of  light  until  it  disappeared 
around  a  bend,  carrying  with  it  the  tall,  swaying,  stooping  figure, 
the  yellow  mandarin  coat  and  the  winking  mirrors. 

Hester  came  out  presently  on  another  road,  turned  into  a  gate 
at  a  little  distance.  Big  trees  concealed  the  outlines  of  the  house, 
but  Hester's  light  revealed  a  path  between  these  trees.  The 
blinds  were  closed  in  front.  Hester  proceeded  through  a  small  front 
hall,  dark,  a  living-room,  dark,  a  dining-room,  dimly-lighted,  into 
a  larger  room,  half  living-room,  half-kitchen,  well-lighted.  The 
place  was  quaintly  floored  and  doored  in  the  style  of  old  houses, 
but  it  showed  the  systematic  orderliness,  the  hygienic  cleanliness 
of  a  hospital.  The  walls  were  painted  a  brilliant  cobalt  blue,  the 
doors  and  wood-work  a  heavy  durable  grey.  The  stove  shone  as 
though  it  had  been  silvered,  the  faucets,  boiler,  and  water-pipes 
as  though  they  had  been  gilded. 

Close  up  to  a  central-table,  hexagonal  in  shape  and  duck-footed, 
sat  a  woman  darning. 

It  was  evident  that  she  was  Hester's  mother;  though  where  the 
likeness  lay  was  a  puzzle. 

Mrs.  Crowell's  skin  was  a  fine  powdery,  pearly-white  just  begin 
ning  to  show  the  mothiness  of  agt  It  lay  lineless  and  glistening 
across  her  lips ;  two  upper  teeth  had  begun  to  press  them  open : 
it  pulled  so  taut  over  the  bones  of  her  face  that  on  the  bridge 
of  her  nose  was  a  thin,  shining,  diamond-shaped  patch.  This 
linelessness  was  not  lingering  youth;  it  was  advancing  age.  Age 
had  ironed,  not  seamed  her  face;  it  was  almost  without  change 
of  expression;  her  eyes  held  an  unwinking  steadiness.  And  under 
her  chin,  the  skin  sagged  into  a  full  wrinkled  pouch  of  flesh. 


66  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

However  youth  had  left  its  marks ;  her  yellow-white  hair  was  thick 
and  heavy,  her  lips  a  high  scarlet;  her  eyes,  over  which  long 
lashes  still  dropped  an  adumbrating  shadow,  a  clear  grey.  She 
had  a  tall,  noble  figure,  high  busted  and  held  in;  every  line  of 
her  simple  home-made  gown  improved  it.  Her  hands  were  big 
but  slender,  and,  in  spite  of  definite  marks  of  house-keeping, 
aristocratic.  She  wore  her  nails  long. 

Mrs.  Crowell  flung  over  her  darning  a  single  quiet  look  at  her 
daughter.  Then  as  though  that  look  met  something  unexpected, 
"  Well,  what's  happened  to  you  ? "  she  demanded. 

Hester  had  a  different  air.  A  faint  colour  stirred  in  her  cheek, 
a  gleam  flickered  in  her  eye.  "  Nothing,"  she  said.  "  I  spent  the 
evening  with  Southward.  She  walked  home  a  piece  with  me." 

"  What  you  got  that  thing  on  for?  " 

Vaguely,  Hester  looked  down  on  the  mandarin  coat.  "  I  felt 
a  little  cool  at  Southward's;  so  I  borrowed  this." 

Her  mother  emitted  a  low  purring,  contemptuous  laugh.  "  Well, 
it  isn't  your  style  you  know.  If  there's  anything  I  hate,  it  is  to 
see  an  old  maid  rigging  herself  up  to  look  picturesque." 

Hester  made  no  comment. 

"  Lucky  for  you  it  was  night,"  her  mother  went  on  with  com 
posure.  "  Shayneford  would  have  a  great  laugh  at  your  expense 
if  it  saw  you  getting  kittenish  in  your  old  age.  I  expect  you'll 
take  to  those  breakfast-caps  next — something  tasty  in  white  lace 
with  blue  ribbons  and  pink  roses  on  it." 

Hester  blushed  furiously.  She  bit  her  lip.  But  she  did  not 
speak. 

Mrs.   Crowell  darned  silently  for  a  while. 

"  What  was  Sarah  Wallis  and  that  crowd  doing  up  to  Mis' 
Drake's  ?  "  she  demanded  suddenly. 

"  I  don't  know,  mother — talking,  I  suppose." 

"  Four  of  them  went — Mis'  Smart  told  me.  What  were  they 
talking  about  and  why'd  they  go  to-day?" 

"  I  don't  know  what  they  were  talking  about,  mother.  But  I 
fancy  they  went  because  they  thought  Southward  wouldn't  be 
there.  They  don't  like  Southward,  you  know." 

"  No  wonder !  The  way  she  treats  them.  I  like  to  hear  her 
go  at  them  though.  It's  the  first  time  in  her  life  Sarah  Wallis 
ever  met  her  match." 

There  came  another  pause  of  silence. 

"  Do  you  ever  hear  from  Josie  Caldwell  now  ?  "  Mrs.  Crowell 
had  the  air  of  one  spearing  in  her  mind  for  floating  queries. 

"  No.     What  makes  you  ask  ? " 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  67 

"  I  wanted  to  know." 

"  I  should  like  to  hear  from  her,"  Hester  said  simply. 

Silence  fell  again. 

Suddenly  Mrs.  Crowell  arose,  lifted  her  basket,  moved  like  a 
stately  ship  through  the  door,  disappeared  into  the  bedroom 
leading  out  of  the  dining-room. 

Hester  waited  a  while,  then  she  lighted  a  lamp,  went  up  the 
back-stairs. 

Her  room  was  large  and  low.  Sloping  roof  and  dormer  win 
dows  introduced  pleasing  irregularities  into  the  squareness  of  its 
shape.  It  was  hung  wherever  cloth  was  appropriate  with  white 
muslin.  Along  one  side  ran  a  low  book-case,  painted  white  and 
crowded  with  books.  A  little  white  desk  with  the  lid  down  occupied 
another  wall;  a  white  dressing-table  bearing  a  white  celluloid 
toilet-set  occupied  a  third.  There  was  a  plaster  bust  of  a  baby's 
head  on  the  desk  and  another  of  a  baby's  hand  above  it.  Here 
and  there  pinned  to  the  walls  were  unframed  pictures,  cut  evi 
dently  from  magazines,  always  of  children.  On  the  dresser  lay 
many  photographs — snap-shots — of  a  baby  or  of  a  woman  with 
a  baby;  it  was  always  the  same  baby  and  always  the  same  woman. 

Hester  did  not  look  about  her.  She  jerked  open  the  lower 
drawer  of  her  bureau  with  such  force  that  the  whole  piece  tot 
tered.  She  reached  in  under  the  piled  mass  of  underwear  and 
pulled  something  out. 

It  was  a  boudoir-cap  of  lace,  trimmed  with  pale-blue  ribbons 
and  a  bunch  of  pink-silk  roses.  For  a  moment,  she  held  it  off 
and  looked  at  it — an  object  deliciously  feminine  with  the  pink 
flesh  of  her  slim  hand  showing  through  the  meshes.  Then, 
suddenly,  it  was  as  though  something  welled  up  in  her  that 
brought  mania,  her  face  contorted,  she  tore  and  twisted  and 
ripped  it,  tossed  it  into  the  waste-basket. 

She  turned  to  the  bureau  and  picked  up  one  of  the  pictures 
there,  studied  it  with  a  look  that  was  an  equal  mixture  of  love 
and  anguish.  It  was  the  picture  of  a  baby,  head  and  shoulders, 
in  profile.  Curls  ran  up  from  the  back  of  the  neck,  over  the 
top  of  the  head,  and  hung  down  over  the  forehead.  The  face 
smiled  and  like  the  face  of  all  healthy  babies  in  mirth  everything 
about  it  seemed  to  smile,  eyes,  lips,  raised  brows,  and  dimply 
contours.  Hester's  brow  contracted;  her  features  writhed.  She 
dropped  the  picture,  covered  her  face  with  her  hands.  When 
she  withdrew  them  her  look  was  quiet  again. 

She  undressed  slowly. 

With  her  night-gown  on,  she  bent  over  the  lamp   as  though 


68  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

to  blow  it  out.  But  even  as  her  lips  parted,  another  impulse 
seized  her.  She  lifted  the  lamp  and  held  it  close  to  the  mirror. 
Her  face  was  as  expressionless  as  her  mother's  for  an  instant. 
She  searched  the  tired  dull  eyes,  the  sallow  freckled  skin,  the 
neutral-coloured  mouth  with  its  drooping  corners.  Then  she 
put  the  lamp  back  on  the  bureau,  pulled  her  huge  braid  forward 
over  her  shoulders,  began  in  a  mad  fury  of  haste  to  unplait  it. 
She  shook  the  strands  out  until  they  sheathed  her.  Seizing  her 
hand-mirror  she  surveyed  herself  again.  She  stood  in  a  cone 
of  gold.  Pivoting  slowly,  she  caught  every  point  of  view  of  the 
light  on  that  strange  garment;  it  ran  down  its  length  in  cataracts 
of  sparkles.  Hester  sighed  and  put  the  mirror  down.  Gathering 
her  hair  into  a  sheaf  again  she  re-plaited  it.  She  went  out  into 
the  hall  and  returned  carrying  a  small  black  cat  tucked  under 
one  arm  and  a  quartette  of  complaining  kittens  under  the  other. 
She  put  them  all  on  the  floor,  sat  down  with  them.  Tabby 
moved  fastidiously  away,  curled  her  trim  tail  as  neatly  as  a  whip 
lash  about  her  feet;  surveyed  her  offspring  with  an  air  of  detach 
ment.  The  kittens,  divorced  so  suddenly  from  the  warm  maternal 
bosom,  crawled  unsteadily  about,  mewing  bitterly.  Hester  took 
them  up  one  at  a  time,  examined  their  closed  eyes,  smoothed 
their  tiny  backs.  Finally  she  put  them  back  into  the  basket  in 
the  hall. 

She  brought  the  lamp  to  the  little  table  by  her  bedside.  Moving 
over  to  the  book-shelf,  she  selected  a  book. 

Crawling  into  bed,  she  read  until  daylight. 


BOOK  TWO 


BOOK  TWO 
CHAPTEE  I 

THE  sun  poured  down  on  the  well-kept  lawn  and  shot  its 
emerald  with  gold.  Back,  the  tiny  Parsonage,  huddling  under 
a  mantle  of  clematis  and  honeysuckle,  offered  a  single  cool  spot. 
Directly  in  front,  the  state  road,  baked  hard  and  yellow,  cut  like 
a  brass  tape  into  the  distance.  Beyond  the  road  clustered  the 
General  Store,  the  Post  Office;  then  came  an  oval,  elm- 
encircled,  of  village  green ;  then  the  white  Unitarian  Church. 
On  the  lawn,  a  score  of  tables,  draped  in  white  cheese-cloth  and 
loaded  with  the  litter  common  to  bazaars,  made  a  Stonehenge 
circle.  Decorations,  flowers,  vines,  boughs  had  begun  to  crisp 
and  shrivel  in  the  white-hot  sunshine.  Outside  clustered  bug 
gies,  carryalls,  a  motor  or  two.  Inside,  groups  of  people  were 
moving  from  table  to  table.  Some — from  their  simple  motor- 
clothes  obviously  city-people — made  swift  rounds,  accomplished 
their  quick,  decisive  purchases,  and  departed  or  engaged  in  social 
commerce.  But  the  majority  of  the  women  of  the  vicinity,  in 
their  starched  and  ill-fitting  summer  best  with  hats  bearing 
no  apparent  relation  either  to  the  heads  or  the  coiffures  that 
supported  them,  their  brown  faces  smiling  and  relaxed,  pro 
ceeded  in  more  leisurely  fashion,  gossiping  much,  buying  little 
and  only  after  long  thought. 

The  Keverend  Nehemiah  Dodge,  puffy  as  to  shape,  fatly-regular 
as  to  feature,  smilingly-unctuous  as  to  manner,  navigated  from 
group  to  group,  talking  largely  and  flowingly  wherever  he  an 
chored  and  effectually  blanketing  sociability  until  he  sailed  away. 

"  So  just  naturally,"  Southward  was  saying  to  Hester,  con 
cluding  an  account  of  her  adventure,  "I've  got  to  go  out  after 
him  first — star  indicates  the  heart  to  be  broken."  Her  eyes  glim 
mered  with  a  delight  purely  boyish  and  frankly  cruel. 

"  Lady  of  Kingdoms !  "  Hester  commented. 

"  Lady  of  Kingdoms,  yourself !  "  retorted  Southward.  "  But 
let's  not  waste  any  time  in  personalities.  They'll  be  here  before 
I  know  it.  I  have  my  plan  of  campaign  all  worked  out.  I'm 

71 


72  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

watching  the  entrance  now  to  see  when  they  come  in.  I've 
instructed  Libbie  to  introduce  them  to  all  the  other  girls  first. 
Of  course  it's  not  so  much  fun  to  get  them  unless  you  take  them 
away  from  somebody.  And  all  the  girls  are  armed  to  kill.  Just 
look  at  them.  Get  Pearl  being  a  gipsy." 

A  little  beyond  the  fish-pond  at  which  Southward  presided 
and  the  candy-table  at  which  Hester  stood,  an  entrance  opened 
into  the  Stonehenge  circle.  Between  this  entrance  and  the  gate 
peaked  a  little  white  tent  and  within  the  tent,  cross-legged  on 
a  cushion,  sat  a  girl  in  an  oriental  costume  of  green  and  yellow 
calico.  A  little  Zouave  jacket  of  black  velvet  trimmed  with  coins 
confined  the  yellow  blouse;  a  little  velvet  cap,  also  of  black 
velvet  and  also  trimmed  with  coins,  covered  her  head.  Before 
her  lay  another  cushion  on  which,  carelessly  set  out,  was  a  pack 
of  cards.  Her  dark  hair,  obviously  crimped  for  the  occasion, 
hung  unconfined  from  her  cap  to  the  ground.  She  was  a  slender 
girl  with  features  frailly  pretty  that  time  would  inevitably  pinch, 
and  a  bloom  evanescently  pink  that  time  would  inevitably 
fade.  Somewhere,  flashing  between  the  big  black  eyes  and  the 
thin  red  lips,  lay  an  expression  that  must,  unless  experience 
interfered,  harden  to  her  mother's  look  of  cold  malice;  now 
it  was  only  inquisitiveness  and  acquisitiveness,  spirited  by 
youth. 

"  Pearl  hates  herself  bitterly  to-day,  doesn't  she  ? "  Southward 
went  on  with  an  obvious  enjoyment  of  this  picture.  "  There's 
only  one  thing  that  girl  does  to  exercise  her  mind,  and  that  is 
trying  to  think  up  costumes  that  will  let  her  wear  her  hair 
loose.  Most  girls  believe  that  they  can  charm  any  man  if  they 
can  only  parade  before  him  with  their  hair  down." 

Southward's  own  hair  clung  tighter  than  usual  to  her  round 
head.  More  tautly  than  ever,  it  rolled  back  from  her  forehead 
over  her  ears,  changing  in  the  process  to  a  metal  of  burnished 
purple.  She  wore  one  of  the  slim,  close-fitting  linen  gowns  which 
were  typical  of  her — so  plain  that,  but  for  a  faint  drawing  in  at 
the  waist,  they  were  like  a  shift. 

"  Lysander  hasn't  taken  any  notice  of  her  to-day.  She's  beckon 
ing  to  him  now.  Lysander  has  a  splendid  figure!  Doesn't  he 
look  stunning  leaning  against  the  tent-pole?  She'll  flirt  with 
one  of  the  new  men  so  as  to  get  him  jealous.  I've  half  a  mind 
to  keep  Lysander  here  with  me  the  whole  afternoon.  Would  if 
it  were  anybody  but  Lysander  and  I  didn't  have  other  fish  to 
fry.  Oh,  my  goodness,  Hetter,"  she  went  on  with  another  access 
of  humorous  appreciation,  "get  Flora  Cow-Tubman  as  a  fairy! 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  73 

Wouldn't  you  know  that  that  would  be  the  part  Flora  would  pick 
for  herself?" 

The  girl  whom  she  indicated  was  tripping  up  the  path  from 
the  gate.  Plump — buxom  indeed — blonde  with  a  heavy  high  bust 
and  a  chin  that  was  already  beginning  to  double,  she  wore  a  full 
trailing  robe  of  tarlatan,  trimmed  with  Christmas-tree  silver 
and  a  wreath  of  flowers  at  her  neck  and  on  her  head.  Her  hair, 
long  and  ash-blonde,  was  also  hanging.  It  had  obviously  been 
put  up  in  rags  the  night  before;  it  divided  mathematically  into 
soft  woolly  curls.  Flora  was  pretty.  And  her  prettiness  was 
real  if  a  little  meaningless.  Her  colourings  of  grey  eye,  of  pink 
lip,  and  of  white  skin  were  all  stable;  her  features  softly  turned. 
Her  expression  was  as  unthinkingly  gay  as  a  child's — that  expres 
sion  was  stable  too.  She  would  undoubtedly  develop,  whether 
married  or  single,  into  a  pleasing,  deep-tinted  maternal  stoutness. 
At  sixty,  she  would  still  be  sweet-looking,  lovely  if  she  chose. 

"  I'd  give  a  fortune  for  camera  privileges,"  Southward  went 
on.  "  But  Flora  isn't  the  worst.  Oh,  Hetter — oh,  my  goodness ! 
Don't  turn  too  quick!  It's  a  scream!  It's  a  riot!  Pinkie  Peters 
as  Folly." 

Pinkie  was  a  tall  slim  girl,  a  little  stoop-shouldered,  with 
eyes  surprisingly  blue,  a  skin  surprisingly  pink,  and  hair  sur 
prisingly  red.  That  hair  was  hanging — a  long,  thick  coarse 
mane  that  rippled  of  its  own  volition  and  broke  near  the  ends 
into  a  natural  crisp  wave.  Her  colours  were  so  vivid  that  they 
deadened  the  disappointing  effect  of  her  features.  Hers  was  a 
fox-face,  running  down  from  high  cheek-bones,  narrower  and  nar 
rower,  until  there  was  scarcely  room  in  the  meagre  mouse-like 
jaw  for  the  strip  of  scarlet  mouth.  Her  costume,  palpably  home 
made  like  the  others,  consisted  of  many  over-lapping  points  of 
blue  and  white,  each  one  ending  in  a  little  bell. 

"  It  takes  a  girl  a  mile  high  to  want  to  show  her  legs,"  South 
ward  commented.  "  And  I  suppose  Pinkie  probably  has  the 
worst  legs  in  town.  But  her  hair  is  gorgeous.  I  love  that  colour. 
If  Pinkie  only  knew  enough  to  pencil  her  brows  and  lashes,  and 
if  somebody  would  only  show  her  how  to  dress,  she'd  be  won 
derful-looking." 

"  Yes,"  Hester  agreed,  "  she's  pretty." 

"You  know,  Hester,  I  respect  Pinkie  the  most  of  the  three 
girls.  She's  hard  as  nails,  of  course,  as  I  am.  Perhaps  that's  why 
I  like  her." 

"  But  when  you  come  to  that,"  Hester  went  on  following  the 
line  of  Southward's  previous  remark,  "Pearl  and  Flora  are  aw- 


74  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

fully  pretty  girls  too.  And  I  really  don't  think  they  look  so  bad 
in  those  costumes." 

Hester  herself  looked  almost  as  bad  as  she  could  look.  Her 
tight-fitting  over-trimmed  country  muslin  accented  her  gaunt- 
ness,  and  at  the  same  time  suppressed  her  colouring.  Her  hair 
was  piled  haphazard  on  her  head.  She  looked  hollow-eyed,  tired, 
hot. 

"  Well,  perhaps  if  you  say  it  quick,"  Southward  admitted 
grudgingly.  "  People  are  beginning  to  come,"  she  added  after 
a  pause.  "  This  is  going  to  be  a  successful  day." 

About  the  gate,  the  vehicles  were  gathering  in  a  huge  con>» 
fused  mass.  Hay-ricks  and  excursion-barges  from  neighbouring 
towns  kept  dumping  their  dusty  perspiring  loads;  motors  arriving 
in  greater  and  greater  frequency  set  down  fresh  trim  city-groups. 
The  Reverend  Nehemiah,  increasingly  bland,  increasingly  unc 
tuous,  was  navigating  more  and  more  swiftly,  putting  a  conversa 
tional  pall  on  every  group  he  approached.  Sue-Salome,  a  big 
doll  on  one  arm,  a  little  book  in  her  hand,  was  trotting  briskly 
from  man  to  man,  enticing  nickels  from  horny  hands.  Libbie, 
her  earrings  twinkling  in  the  brilliant  sunlight,  made  an  equally 
successful  progress  with  a  rag-rug.  From  time  to  time,  the 
sisters  met  for  a  brief  interval  in  which  they  exchanged  breath 
less  comments.  Mrs.  Tubman's  shapeless  bulk  was  rooted  on  one 
spot  at  the  fancy-articles  table,  but  her  scuttling  eye  roved 
ceaselessly,  picking  up  stray  morsels  of  observation  as  though 
it  were  a  beak.  Mrs.  Wallis,  making  change,  constantly  fluffed 
her  mat  of  artificial  hair,  constantly  pushed  down  her  corset- 
steel,  darted  her  quick,  bright-eyed  glances  from  spot  to  spot. 
For  long  appraising  intervals,  Mrs.  Peters  surveyed  the  whole 
scene  over  her  nose. 

"  Ah,"  Southward  said  suddenly.  "  Here  they  are — Dwight 
Cameron  and  John  Smith — Cameron's  the  blonde." 

Two  men  had  come  in  through  the  Parsonage  gate.  They  stood 
for  an  unembarrassed  second  frankly  looking  about  them,  the 
most  conspicuous  figures  on  the  lawn. 

They  were  tall  and  good-looking,  but  those  were  their  only 
points  in  common.  John  Smith  was  slender  and  thinly-muscular; 
even  at  a  distance  it  looked  as  though  there  were  packed  onto 
the  bony  structure  of  his  body  much  muscle  but  no  flesh.  The 
regularity  of  his  features  gave  him  a  look  of  caste.  He  was 
brown-skinned,  brown-haired,  brown-eyed;  but  his  face  was  lined 
and  there  was  a  fleck  of  grey  at  his  temples.  He  stood  now  in 
an  attitude  noticeably  easy,  leaning  at  the  hip  on  his  stick.  His 


75 

face   bore   a   smile   which   even    at   that   distance  was   bafflingly 
pleasant. 

Dwight  Cameron,  though  quite  as  tall,  seemed  shorter  because 
he  was  stockier.  His  light  brown  hair  had  already  faded  in 
streaks  of  yellow  and  flaxen;  his  fair  skin  had  first  burned,  then 
browned.  Against  this  tanned  background,  his  eyes  took  a  deeper 
blue  than  was  natural  to  them,  his  teeth  a  white  that  was  almost 
luminous.  His  face  had  none  of  his  companion's  high-bred  regu 
larity  of  line;  it  had  a  marked  but  agreeable  irregularity.  His 
expression  was  that  of  a  good-humoured  arrogance  which  broke 
at  the  eyes  into  a  look  of  incipient  laughter. 

Having  surveyed  the  scene  at  their  leisure,  the  two  men  started 
briskly  forward. 

"  Will  you  have  your  fortune  told  ? "  Pearl  Wallis  called  as 
they  passed  her  tent.  "  I  read  the  future  in  your  palm  or  in 
the  cards."  She  dropped  her  eyes  coquettishly. 

The  men  stopped  and  parleyed  with  her.  In  the  end,  Dwight 
Cameron  disappeared  inside  the  tent.  The  flap  fell  half  forward, 
but  not  before  it  was  to  be  seen  that — sitting  Turk-fashion  on 
the  floor  in  front  of  the  fair  fortune-teller — he  had  given  her 
his  palm  to  read.  His  companion  continued  at  a  leisurely  pace, 
his  gloves  in  one  hand,  his  stick  hooked  on  the  other  arm,  in  the 
direction  of  the  Stonehenge  circle. 

Flora  Tubman  met  him  at  the  entrance.  She  presented  a  book 
to  him  and  stood  explaining  her  mission.  He  gravely  put  his 
name  down  on  half  a  dozen  pages  picked  at  random.  He  con 
tinued  to  talk  with  her  after  he  had  signed  for  the  last  time.  In 
a  few  minutes,  Pinkie  Peters  broke  into  their  tete-a-tete.  Flora 
introduced  Mr.  Smith  to  Pinkie.  Pinkie  presented  her  book. 
Mr.  Smith  again  put  his  name  on  half  a  dozen  pages  chosen  at 
random.  He  listened  with  a  quizzical  deferentiality  to  their 
observations.  He  made  numerous  observations  of  his  own.  He 
laughed.  But  at  intervals,  his  glance  went  beyond  their  faces," 
searched  that  section  of  the  Stonehenge  circle  which  it  faced. 

After  a  while,  Dwight  Cameron  emerged  from  the  tent  and 
joined  the  group.  John  Smith  introduced  Cameron  to  the  girls. 
A  shift  in  their  position  brought  Smith's  gaze  to  the  other  half 
of  the  Stonehenge  circle.  And  as  before,  his  gaze  went  past  the 
two  girls — at  quicker  intervals  now,  for  Cameron  was  monop 
olising  their  attention — to  the  new  semi-circle.  The  sun  was 
in  his  face  here;  again  and  again  its  strong  glare  proved  too 
much  for  him.  After  a  while,  he  walked  back  towards  Pearl's 
tent.  Again  the  flap  fell  part-way  over  the  entrance  but  not 


76  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

before  it  was  evident  that  he  had  chosen  the  cards  in  preference 
to  palmistry. 

"  Pearl's  got  first  shot  at  both  of  them,"  Southward  said,  drop 
ping  her  lids  over  the  brilliant  blue  and  black  glimmer  in  her 
eyes.  "  Foxy  little  Pearl !  " 

"  Be  careful,  Southward,"  Hester  breathed. 

Dwight  Cameron  still  stood  talking  with  the  girls.  He  had 
none  of  his  friend's  air,  quietly  deferential,  quizzically  humorous, 
of  attention.  He  dominated  the  situation.  It  was  he  who  asked 
the  questions.  It  was  the  girls  who  answered  them.  He  laughed 
often,  but  they  laughed  oftener;  for  his  laugh  was  full  of  an 
arrogant  infection.  Quite  frankly  and  even  while  -openly  he 
harried  his  companions,  his  gaze  shot  in  and  out  of  the  tables 
in  what  was  obviously  search.  Presently  his  companion  joined 
them.  The  four  stood  talking  and  laughing.  Mr.  Dodge  bore 
down  on  the  group  with  the  slow  bumpy  precision  of  a  ferry-boat 
making  the  slip. 

"  Puts  a  spoke  in  Pinkie's  wheel,"  said  Southward  with  entire 
content. 

"  Southward — don't,"  was  Hester's  only  comment.  She  went 
on  all  the  time  conscientiously  selling  her  goods  and  making  her 
accurate  change. 

The  Reverend  Nehemiah  inundated  the  strangers  with  a  Ni 
agara  of  bromidic  comment.  Two  men  joined  the  group;  Thode 
Snow  a  grown-up  fat-boy,  blond  and  a  mouth-breather;  King 
Curtis,  thin  and  brown  with  teeth  conspicuously  false  and  shoul 
ders  monstrously  padded.  The  Reverend  Nehemiah  introduced 
them  to  the  strangers.  Now  the  seven  stood  talking  in  what  was 
obviously  the  surface  civilities  of  group  conversation.  Suddenly 
the  crowd  split.  A  delegation  of  women,  who  had  just  entered 
the  gate,  surrounded  the  pastor,  tugged  him  off  to  shoal  waters. 
King  Curtis  cut  Flora  Tubman  from  what  remained  of  the  group. 
Thode  Snow  engaged  Pinkie.  The  strangers  started  with 
alacrity  to  make  the  round  of  the  tables.  Sue-Salome  came 
bustling  and  twinkling  across  their  path.  They  stopped  her. 
They  put  a  question  to  her.  She  nodded  an  assent.  She  led  them 
in  a  diagonal  course  that  exactly  bisected  Stonehenge  and  ended 
between  the  candy  counter  and  the  fish-pond. 

"  It's  coming,  Hester,"  Southward  announced,  her  casual  gaze 
on  the  sky  apparently  reviewing  the  weather,  "  they've  asked  to 
be  introduced  and  they're  making  a  bee-line  for  us.  Flora  and 
Pinkie  are  ready  to  chew  barbed-wire  and  Pearl  could  bite  the 
banisters.  But  let  nobody  say  I  didn't  give  them  a  fair  chance." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  77 

"Southward,"  Hester  remonstrated  wildly,  "they'll  hear  you." 

"  Oh,  no,  they  won't,"  Southward  said  without  lowering  her 
voice.  "  Kemember,  me  for  the  blonde !  Yes,  of  course,"  she  went 
on  in  a  cool  clear  voice,  "  I  prefer  H.  G.  Wells.  Not  that  Henry 
James  hasn't  his  attractions  for  me.  I  mean  in  the  matter  of 
style " 

"  Southward,"  Sue-Salome  interrupted  briskly,  "  and  Hester, 
I'll  make  you  acquainted  with  Mr.  Cameron  and  Mr.  Smith. 
Miss  Drake  and  Miss  Crowell.  If  Libbie  and  I  ain't  had  the 
worst  time!  We  was  depending  on  May  Howes  and  she  not  only 

don't  show  up  but  she  ain't  so  much  as  sent  us  a  word There ! 

If  that  ain't  she  coming  in  now.  You'll  excuse  me  for  I've  got 
to  see  her  at  once." 

The  girls  had  in  the  meantime  bowed,  Hester  speechlessly, 
Southward  with  a  conventional  murmur.  "  I'm  Miss  Drake  and 
my  friend  is  Miss  Crowell,"  Southward  explained  with  a  gravity 
that  even  put  out  her  blue  and  black  shimmer.  "  You  couldn't 
tell  which  was  which  from  the  introductions."  She  presented 
a  business-like  impassivity  to  Mr.  Cameron's  keen  gaze.  "  Could 
I  tempt  either  of  you  or  both  of  you  to  try  your  fortunes  in  the 
fish-pond?  I'll  guarantee  that  you'll  hate  anything  you  get." 

"  I'll  take  six  chances  at  once,"  Mr.  Cameron  decided  promptly. 
"  Lead  me  to  it."  They  drew  away  from  the  other  two  and 
leaned  over  the  hogshead  draped  with  cheese-cloth  that  was  the 
fish-pond.  Southward  handed  her  victim  a  pole.  He  dropped  it 
inside,  made  a  skilful  pretence  of  not  being  able  to  catch  the 
loops  of  string,  arranged  obviously  for  easy  hooking. 

"  Are  aquatic  sports  your  speciality  ? "  he  queried  carelessly. 
He  fixed  his  arrogant  gaze  on  Southward;  the  look  of  incipient 
laughter  in  his  eyes  became  real  mirth. 

"  No,"  said  Southward  in  a  musing  tone,  "  not  especially." 

"  Meaning  for  instance,"  Cameron  went  on,  "  do  you  swim  ? " 

A  glimmer  came  stealing  into  the  depths  of  Southward's  eyes. 
But  she  dropped  her  lashes  at  once  and  studied  his  undirected 
efforts  with  the  fishing-pole. 

"  Oh,  yes !  "  she  answered  coolly,  as  one  remembering.  "  I  do 
swim  a  little.  How  remarkably  inexpert  you  are !  " 

"  Yes,  it's  an  art  in  itself,"  Cameron  admitted  with  a  coolness 
that  was  the  fellow  of  hers.  "  Do  you  ever  swim  at  night  ? "  he 
went  on  in  a  casual  tone. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  Southward  answered  with  an  appearance  of  artless 
enthusiasm.  "  I've  just  returned  from  Oldtown  where  we  went 
into  the  ocean  every  night." 


78  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  Really ! "  Cameron  commented.  For  an  instant,  he  lost  some 
of  his  poise.  He  looked  unsettled  and  perplexed.  Then,  "  When 
did  you  come  from  Oldtown  ?  "  he  demanded  suddenly. 

"  Let  me  see,"  Southward  replied  lazily,  "  I'll  have  to  think. 
A  week  ago?  No.  Two  or  three  days  ago.  What  day  is  this? 
Monday,  isn't  it  ? "  Then  at  her  companion's  impatient  nod, 
"  I  got  home  Friday." 

Cameron's  face  flashed  its  big  smile.  "  Friday!  "  he  ejaculated. 
Then  "Eureka!"  Then,  "Oh,  you  mermaid!" 

Southward  only  laughed. 

"  I  went  swimming  last  night,"  he  said  reproachfully.  "  I  swam 
until  I  was  nearly  parboiled.  Why  didn't  you  come  again  ? " 

"  You  speak  as  though  it  were  a  hundred  years  ago,"  South 
ward  commented. 

"  It  was — a  thousand." 

"  One  night,"  Southward  corrected  him. 

"  Will  you  come  to-night  ?  "  Cameron  asked  eagerly.  "  It  was 
the  most  remarkable  thing  that  ever  happened  to  me.  It  was  so 
confoundedly  unexpected  and  romantic;  it's  just  obsessed  me." 

"  Well,"  Southward  had  the  appearance  now  of  candid  logic, 
"  it  can't  ever  be  romantic  again — if  romance  depends  on  unex 
pectedness." 

"  But  it  doesn't  exactly.  Oh,  please  come.  Come  again  to 
night.  Say,  you'll  come,  please,  please!"  Cameron  had  used  the 
word  please  twice,  but  he  did  not  entreat  at  all;  he  commanded. 

Southward,  in  an  instant  of  cool  and  calculated  observation, 
seemed  to  take  account  of  this.  "  I  really  don't  know,"  she 
answered  indifferently,  "  whether  I  shall  feel  like  swimming 
to-night." 

"  Oh,  please  come ! "  Cameron  said  again.  And  now  some  of 
the  arrogance  had  gone  out  of  him.  His  voice  employed  a  note 
of  entreaty. 

"  There !  "  Southward's  voice  was  full  of  a  delight,  purely 
benevolent,  "  you've  hooked  a  fish." 

Purely  by  accident  he  had.    "  Damn !  "  he  muttered. 

"  I  beg  pardon,"  Southward  murmured. 

"  I  said  I  had ! "  he  explained.  He  drew  out  his  package, 
opened  it.  "  Pen-wiper !  "  he  commented.  "  You  deceived  me. 
I  don't  hate  that.  I  need  a  pen-wiper.  I  always  use  the  por 
tieres.  Please  promise  me  that  you'll  come  to-night." 

"  Well,  you  see,"  Southward  said  in  a  disinterested  tone,  "  it 
all  depends  on  how  I  feel  at  eleven  o'clock.  By  the  way,  you've 
got  five  other  chances,  you  know." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  79 

He  bit  his  lip.  And  he  began  to  fish  rapidly  as  though  to  get 
an  unpleasant  business  over.  He  drew  in  succession  a  moustache- 
cup,  a  pin-cushion,  a  pin-tray.  "  '  Hand-painted ! '  "  was  his  com 
ment  on  this.  "  That's  valuable."  A  sheaf  of  shaving-paper 
under  an  embroidered  cover  came  next,  a  satin  handkerchief -case. 
"  Please  say  you'll  come,"  he  begged,  when  the  last  fish  had  been 
revealed.  And  now  his  tone  was  actually  humble. 

"  All  right,"  Southward  agreed,  "  I'll  start  from  my  side  of  the 
pond  at  eleven." 

"  I'll  meet  you  just  beyond,"  Cameron  promised.  "  Oh,  here 
are  some  more  customers."  He  dropped  into  the  background. 

More  and  more  people  were  arriving.  Carriages  were  coming 
in  steady  lines;  motors  were  constantly  whirring,  churning, 
exploding  as  they  stopped  at  the  entrance  or  started  off  from  it; 
at  train-time  station-barges  drew  up,  depositing  their  loads. 
There  was  a  file,  almost  continuous,  from  the  gate  past  the  for 
tune-teller's  tent,  to  the  arch  of  flags.  The  tables  were  beginning 
to  show  bare  places.  The  fish-pond  sold  out  once  and  had  to  be 
replenished  from  stores  under  a  neighbouring  counter.  Hester's 
home-made  candies  and  cakes  moved  in  steady  files  from  her 
table;  her  helpers  were  constantly  diving  into  boxes  at  the  rear 
for  fresh  goods.  The  Eeverend  Nehemiah  floated  blandly  from 
group  to  group.  On  Mrs.  Wallis's  cheeks  lay  two  hard  bright 
patches  of  colour — the  result  of  unwonted  arithmetic.  Mrs.  Tub- 
man's  dull  eye  had  gone  absolutely  blank  and  cold;  and  the  live 
one  scuttled  less  feverishly  from  point  to  point.  Mrs.  Peters 
looked  over  her  nose  less  frequently  but  with  more  concentration. 
In  the  fortune-teller's  tent,  business  was  brisk;  the  flap  was  never 
up  for  longer  than  a  second.  Folly  with  the  clock  in  her  arms 
tinkled  from  spot  to  spot,  Thode  Snow  always  at  her  elbow. 
Flora  had  put  her  foot  through  her  tarlatan  skirt  twice.  Her 
crown  of  flowers  had  faded;  but  exertion  had  brought  a  deeper 
bloom  to  her  smooth  cheeks.  King  Curtis  did  not  leave  her  side. 
Lysander  still  stood  on  the  outskirts  of  the  crowd,  coolly  watching 
everybody. 

"  I  hope  I  didn't  frighten  you  the  other  night,"  Mr.  Smith 
had  in  the  meantime  opened  conversation  with  Hester.  "  You 
see,  I  thought  at  that  hour  it  would  be  a  man.  I  had  forgotten 
how  fearlessly  country-girls  go  about.  It  did  occur  to  me  after 
wards  though  that  I  might  have  offered  to  take  you  home.  I  was 
too  afraid  at  the  time;  you  seemed  awfully  competent  at  that 
moment." 

"  Nobody  has  ever  called  me  competent  before,"  Hester  said. 


80  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  It's  pleasant  to  hear  it.  I  wasn't  frightened  a  bit  of  course. 
I  wondered  afterwards  if  you  got  home  all  right.  I'm  afraid  I 
didn't  give  you  very  explicit  directions." 

"  Oh,  I  had  no  difficulty  whatever.  I  found  that  Cameron  had 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  I  was  drowned.  He  was  starting  to 
drag  the  pond.  Then  it  occurred  to  him  to  see  if  my  bathing-suit 
was  there.  It  was;  so  he  gave  it  up." 

There  came  a  brief  pause.  Mechanically,  Hester  straightened 
out  the  squares  of  cake,  the  dishes  of  candy. 

"  You  were  rather  startling  in  that  yellow  Chinese  coat,"  Smith 
went  on  after  a  while.  His  pleasant  voice  had  a  slight  touch  of 
diffidence.  "  It  was  like  seeing  a  ghost — I  shall  always  feel  as 
though  I  had  seen  a  Chinese  ghost." 

"  It's  a  very  wonderful  coat,  I  think."  In  Hester's  soft  voice 
there  was  a  touch  of  diffidence  also.  She  went  on  eagerly  to  talk 
of  Southward  as  though  she  could  transfer  the  onus  of  her  em 
barrassment  to  other  shoulders.  "  It  belongs  to  Miss  Drake.  You 
ought  to  see  her  in  it.  She  has  dozens  of  them  though.  One  of 
her  ancestors  brought  a  lot  back  from  China.  I  don't  know  why, 
I'm  sure.  Of  course  many  of  the  old  houses  here  are  full  of 
Chinese  stuff,  but  hers  is  the  only  one  that  has  any  Chinese 
clothes." 

"Perhaps  he  took  unto  himself  a  Chinese  wife  and  brought 
home  her  wardrobe.  Miss  Drake  ought  to  give  that  yellow  one 
to  you,  though.  That's  yours  by  every  rule  of  ownership." 

"  Southward's  always  trying  to  give  it  to  me — and  two  or  three 
others  that  she  thinks  are  becoming  to  me.  But  I  can't  take 
them.  I  hate  to  destroy  the  collection.  I  think  some  of  them 
must  be  precious;  they're  undoubtedly  very  old." 

"  I  should  like  to  see  them,"  said  Smith.  "  I  like  Chinese 
things." 

"  I'm  very  sure  that  Southward  would  gladly  show  them  to 
you,"  Hester  answered  simply. 

"  Well,  now,"  Smith  changed  the  subject  suddenly,  "  it's  up  to 
me  to  spend  some  hard-earned  gold.  That  cake  looks  good.  Good, 
is  what  I  say  in  several  languages  and  every  degree  of  emphasis. 
I  say,  Dwight " 

He  raised  his  voice  a  little. 

Cameron  turned  about.  It  was  extraordinary  what  a  thunder 
ous  frown  his  blond  face  could  produce.  "  What  is  it  ? "  he 
demanded  impatiently. 

"  Look  at  this  cake,"  Smith  ordered.  "  Never  in  your  life  hare 
you  seen  anything  like  it!  We  haven't  had  any  cake  since  we 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  81 

got  down  here.  I'm  thinking  of  buying  the  entire  crop.  How 
can  we  get  it  home?" 

"  Take  a  taxi !  "  Cameron  snapped  and  turned  a  shoulder  on  his 
friend. 

"  No  enthusiasm  in  that  quarter,"  Smith  commented,  "  although 
I  give  you  my  word,  Miss  Crowell,  to-night  he'll  murder  me 
for  not  having  lugged  the  whole  lot  back  to  camp  on  my  back. 
I  guess  I'll  have  to  content  myself  with  vicarious  enjoyment. 
Hullo,  kids."  He  turned  suddenly  on  the  group  of  children  who, 
arriving  the  instant  before,  had  made  a  bee-line  for  Hester's 
counter.  "  What'll  you  have,  cake  or  candy  ?  " 

There  were  half  a  dozen  of  them,  boys  and  girls,  slim,  sun 
burned,  freckled,  forced  into  unaccustomed  shoes  and  their  lank 
country  best.  The  boys  announced  their  preferences  with  dum- 
founding  clearness  and  speed,  but  the  girls  were  inclined  to  be 
non-committal.  Smith  was  sufficiently  adroit  with  them,  how 
ever;  he  teased  and  coaxed  until  the  last  shy  maid  had  lisped  her 
choice.  Then  he  proceeded  to  satisfy  a  later  and  smaller  group 
who,  sensing  loot  across  the  field,  came  trooping  over,  displaying 
even  to  the  smallest  girl  no  shame  whatever.  Cameron,  catching 
the  spirit  of  the  occasion,  interrupted  his  talk  with  South 
ward,  insisted  on  doing  what  he  called,  "  blowing  them  to  a 
fish." 

The  dozen  children  surrounded  the  fish-pond,  each  clamouring 
to  be  first.  Cameron  ended  by  dividing  his  spoils  among  them; 
all  except  the  moustache-cup  which  he  vowed  to  cherish  as  long 
as  life  was  "  to  "  him. 

Increasing  crowds  made  it  impossible  for  the  men  to  hold  their 
positions  longer.  They  withdrew  for  an  interval,  in  which  they 
made  the  rounds  of  the  other  tables,  submitting  to  spoliation  at 
the  hands  of  various  types  of  rustic  beauty  and  rustic  enterprise. 
Occasionally  they  doubled  back  on  their  tracks  to  snatch  a  tete-a- 
tete,  but  the  increasing  crowds  made  impossible  more  than  a 
remark  or  two. 

Gradually,  however,  the  crowds  began  to  thin.  Empty  yellow 
busses  drew  up  to  the  door  and  departed  packed  with  people  and 
bundles.  Buggies  and  carryalls  drove  off  over-loaded.  Motors 
carried  passengers  on  the  running-boards.  Those  who  were  left 
walked  staidly  up  the  dusty  country-roads.  The  three  girls, 
Pearl  and  Flora  and  Pinkie,  were  changing  their  clothes  in  the 
Parsonage.  Their  three  swains  waited  outside.  Lysander  had 
disappeared. 

"  Seventy-five  dollars  and  thirty-seven  cents,"  Mrs.  Wallis  an- 


82  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

nounced  triumphantly,  adding  up  the  last  handful  of  coins. 
"Lord,  I'm  just  about  ready  to  drop!"  chirped  Libbie  Hatch. 
"  Sue  says  she  hates  the  sight  of  money."  "  Land,  don't  this 
place  look  ready  to  ride  out,"  sighed  Mrs.  Peters.  "  We'll  all 
hare  to  come  over  to-morrow  morning  and  clean  up." 

The  lawn  did  indeed  look  draggled  wherever  the  litter  of  paper 
permitted  it  to  be  seen.  The  vines  and  boughs  hung  ragged  and 
shrivelled  from  the  dismantled  tables. 

"  Will  you  let  me  walk  home  with  you,  Miss  Drake  ? "  Dwight 
Cameron  had  taken  the  precaution  to  ask  early  in  the  afternoon, 
forestalling  Lysander  who  immediately  afterwards  came  forward 
with  the  offer  of  a  lift. 

"  And  I'll  carry  these  things  for  you,  Miss  Crowell,"  John 
Smith  said,  as  he  helped  stow  away  alien  belongings  in  the  Par 
sonage  barn.  "  That  is,  if  you  don't  mind." 

"  Thank  you.  I  shall  enjoy  it  very  much,"  Hester  answered 
with  her  quaint  rustic  formality. 

"  Do  you  like  Shaynef ord,  Mr.  Smith  ? "  Hester  began  as  they 
emerged  from  the  Parsonage  lawn  to  the  dusty  road. 

"  Oh,  immensely !  It's  charming — absolutely  unspoiled,  simple, 
quaint,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  It  has  a  flavour  of  its  own 
too.  I  don't  wonder  painters  like  it.  It  isn't  quite  like  any 
place  I've  ever  seen.  We're  all  strong  for  it." 

"  How  did  you  happen  to  come  here  ? " 

"  Shut  my  eyes  and  stuck  a  pin  in  the  map,  haphazard,"  Smith 
explained.  "How  do  you  like  it?"  he  asked  unexpectedly. 

Hester  did  not  speak  for  a  moment.  "  I  see  in  it — and  feel 
in  it — all  that  you  see  and  feel,  I  suppose,"  she  began  after  a 
while  in  a  tone  measured  and  even.  "  It  is  as  you  say  quaint, 
full  of  a  flavour  of  its  own  with  a  quality  that  artists  very  much 
admire.  But "  Her  voice  changed. 

"  But,"  her  companion  prodded  her,  "  please  go  on ! " 

Hester  did  not  however  speak. 

"  Please  go  on,"  he  entreated. 

"  Well,"  Hester  took  it  up  again,  "  I  realize  that  all  you 
say  is  true."  Her  voice  accelerated  in  speed;  it  grew  hotter, 
keener;  her  breath  came  between  her  words,  a  sharp  quick  pull 
inward  and  then  a  spurt  outward.  "  I  also  realise  that  it  is — 
gone-to-seed — bleak,  blank,  stark,  dead,  a  mere  empty  shell — of 
what  was  once  a  lively  and  energetic  little  town — a  place  that 
saps  and  taps  and  cuts  and  bleeds — and  strangles  the  young  and 
suffocates — and  dulls — and  deadens — and  paralyses — and  ossifies 


THE  LADY  OP  KINGDOMS  83 

the  old.  If  I  had  my  way,  I'd  leave  it  this  instant  and  not  see 
it  again  for  years.  It's  a  grave-yard." 

Hester's  whole  aspect  had  changed.  Suppressed  fire  now 
sent  out  a  flame  from  every  point  of  her  personality.  Her 
colour  had  risen;  her  eyes  glittered;  her  sultry  hair  quivered  and 
sparkled. 

Smith  listened,  composed. 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  he  said  in  an  amused  tone.  "  I  see  all  that, 
but  it  wouldn't  occur  to  me  that  you  could.  After  all,  you're 
a  kind  of  rebel,  aren't  you?  Comrade  Hester  Crowell,  in  the 
spirit  of  revolt,  I  salute  you." 

"  Are  you  a  Socialist?  "  Hester  asked. 

"  In  a  way.  I  think  I  haven't  been  expelled  from  the  party 
recently." 

"  You're  the  only  one  I've  ever  seen,"  Hester  said,  "  except 
Mr.  Hallowell." 

v  "  On  the  contrary,"  Smith  contradicted,  "  the  man  who  runs 
the  garage — Doten — is  a  Socialist.  Your  grocer  is  a  Socialist, 
and  the  little  girl  who  presides  over  the  candy-shop  is  a  Socialist. 
I've  had  long  talks  with  all  three  of  them." 

"  Myra  Barry !  "  Hester  exclaimed.     "  I  can't  believe  it." 

"  Go  down  some  day  and  talk  with  her,"  Smith  suggested. 
"You're  one  yourself  of  course,  although  you  may  not  know  it 
yet." 

Hester  shook  her  head.  "  No,  I'm  afraid  of  such  things. 
Socialism,  anarchism — the  very  names  frighten  me — even  equal 
suffrage  some.  Don't  they  frighten  you  ?  " 

"  Not  at  all.  I'll  whisper  a  deadly  terrible  secret  to  you  if  you 
promise  not  to  tell  though — they  bore  me  like  the  dickens  some 
times.  All  modern  warfare  is  a  bore  anyway — even  a  battle." 
Before  Hester  could  speak,  he  turned  the  subject.  "  Have  you 
lived  here  long  ?  " 

"  All  my  life,"  Hester  answered,  "  and  I've  never  really  been 
away." 

"And  has  Miss  Drake  always  lived  here?" 

"  Yes,  but  she's  gone  away  occasionally — to  New  York  once — 
and  we've  both  been  to  Boston  many  times.  But  she's  tied  here 
too." 

"  She's  an  amazing  type,"  Smith  said  meditatively. 

"Isn't  she  lovely?"  Hester  demanded  fervently.  "Or  would 
you  call  her  beautiful  ?  " 

"  I  would  call  her  neither,"  Smith  answered.  "  But  she's 
pretty — unbearably,  mercilessly,  unfairly,  pretty.  She's  got  the 


84  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

air  that  in  women  most  terrifies  me — of  being  absolutely  sure  of 
herself." 

"  Oh,  yes,  she's  sure  of  herself,"  Hester  agreed.  "  It's  the 
thing  about  her  that  most  fascinates  me.  That's  a  curious  thing," 
she  went  on,  smiling.  "Your  friend  Mr.  Cameron  has  the  same 
air  and  as  it  happens,  although  it  enchants  me  in  Southward,  it's 
the  quality  that  most  frightens  me  in  men.  It  would  be  a  long 
time  before  I  should  be  at  my  ease  with  Mr.  Cameron.  South 
ward  may  be  sure  but  he's  cocksure.  For  instance,"  she  went 
on  analytically,  "  he's  not  really  good-looking  when  you  examine 
him.  But  that  cocksureness  of  his  hypnotises  you  into  thinking 
he  is." 

"  Oh,  yes,  he  gets  away  with  that  in  fine  style,"  Smith  agreed. 
"  It's  sheer  beaute  du  diable  with  him  as,  in  a  way  it  is  with  Miss 
Drake.  You're  quite  right.  It's  the  arrogance  of  the  young 
brute." 

Hester  did  not  speak.  She  had  that  quality  of  intense  listening 
that  at  times  seems  to  concentrate  into  a  wordless  question  or 
a  soundless  exclamative. 

"  It's  done  him  good  coming  here,"  Smith  went  on.  "  He's  on 
the  Planet  in  New  York — star-reporter.  He  came  from  Vermont 
originally;  then  he  went  West.  He's  been  in  New  York  five 
years  now.  He's  done  and  is  still  doing  the  most  brilliant 
reportorial  work — but  he's  got  enough  out  of  that,  and  besides 
he's  doing  it  with  his  left  hand.  I  want  him  to  break  away  now 
and  free-lance  for  a  while.  By  the  way,  he's  the  author  of  one 
novel — a  short  novel — that  had  made  considerable  success  three 
or  four  years  ago — Ginger." 

"  Did  he  write  Ginger? "  Hester  asked  in  an  interested  voice. 
"I  loved  that." 

"  So  did  everybody,"  Smith  averred.  "  He's  been  intending 
during  the  five  years  he's  been  in  New  York  to  write  its  suc 
cessor.  But  he  hasn't  done  it  yet.  You  see  New  York's  got  hold 
of  him  a  little.  He's  a  well-known  figure  there  and  he's  reaping 
all  the  rewards  and  penalties  of  charm  of  personality.  Oh,  I 
don't  mean  that  he's  definitely  hurt  by  it.  His  ability  is  all 
there  of  course — bursting  with  suppression.  But  you  can  form 
no  idea  of  what  in  the  way  of  temptation  New  York  has  to 
offer  such  a  good-looking,  healthy,  virile  young  beggar  as  Dwight. 
I  take  him  apart  regularly  every  two  months  and  show  him  how 
all  the  works  are  going  bad.  It's  surprising  what  he  stands  from 
me.  But  in  fact,  I  abducted  him  to  get  him  down  here.  He  was, 
between  ourselves,  quite  noticeably  and  unmistakenly  drunk  when 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  85 

I  took  possession  of  him.  When  he  woke  up,  he  was  fighting 
mad.  But  he's  so  crazy  about  the  place  now  that  I'm  going  to 
have  difficulty  in  getting  him  back  on  the  job.  He's  been  exer 
cising — really  exercising — for  the  first  time  since  he  came  to  New 
York,  swimming,  running,  boxing  with  me  and  Morena.  The 
best  part  of  it  is  that  he's  bubbling  over  with  ideas  for  stories. 
He'll  do  something  some  day — I  don't  know  what  it  will  be — and 
sometimes  I  think  it  may  not  be  writing  at  all — but  he'll  do  it." 

"  Say,  this  is  a  great  little  burg,"  Cameron  was  in  the  mean 
time  saying  to  Southward.  "  You  Cape  Codders  are  different 
from  what  I  thought.  Seem  to  render  up  the  keys  of  the  city 
to  the  stranger  on  a  velvet  cushion." 

"  Glad  you  like  it,"  Southward  remarked  politely.  "  I  hate  it 
like  poison  myself." 

"Keally?" 

"  Keally." 

"  Oh,  I  say— I  can't  believe  that." 

"  You  don't  have  to  live  here,  you  know." 

"  Sure !  You're  right.  I'd  hate  it  like  the  dickens  if  I  had  to 
stay  here,"  Dwight  agreed.  "  Why  don't  you  go  away  ? " 

"  Can't,"  Southward  answered  laconically.  "  Responsibilities !  " 
she  added,  as  though  definitely  turning  the  subject.  "  Tell  me 
about  your  friend  John  Smith." 

"  I  would  rather  talk  about  you." 

"  Oh,  I'm  coming  to  that,"  Southward  promised. 

"  Or  me." 

"  Well,  I  may  even  get  to  that — much  later  though." 

"  All  right,"  Cameron  said,  "  I'll  admit  that  next  to  myself 
and  the  girl  I  happen  to  be  with,  I  talk  with  more  enthusiasm 
about  J.  Smith,  Esquire,  than  any  other  human  being  on  this 
terrestrial  ball.  Old  John  is  a  person.  He's  good  Indian,  an  old 
scout,  a  regular  fellow,  and  all  those  things  people  say.  He's  the 
whitest  human  being  I  ever  knew.  I'd  give  the  last  drop  of  my 
blood  for  him.  He's  a  queer  cuss  though.  He's  a  red-hot  Socialist 
although  he's  always  fighting  with  the  party.  But  he's  really 
got  a  sense  of  humour.  He  gave  up  a  good  job  with  a  handsome 
salary  on  The  Moment,  a  growing  weekly,  to  go  over  and  fight 
on  Progress,  a  lone  dog  of  a  Socialist  sheet  that  puts  up  a  fierce 
Socialist  howl  once  a  week  on  the  East  Side.  He's  put  some 
punch  into  it,  let  me  tell  you.  It's  so  full  of  red  corpuscles  that 
people  actually  read  it."  He  paused  and  flashed  his  good- 
humoured  arrogant  grin,  "  I  don't  mean  Socialists — I  mean  people. 


86  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Let  me  tell  you  my  favourite  story  about  John.  He  was  living 
down  in  the  slums.  There  was  an  Irish  couple  had  a  room  on 
the  same  floor.  The  husband  was  a  good  enough  young  fellow 
but  when  he  got  any  booze  in  him,  he  always  wanted  to  fight. 
He  got  into  the  way  of  beating  his  wife  up.  She  was  all  broken 
up  about  it  and  confided  in  John.  She  wouldn't  have  her  hus 
band  arrested  of  course — they  never  do — and  yet  she  wanted  to 
stop  it.  Well,  what  do  you  think  John  did  ? " 

"I  don't  know." 

"  She  was  a  great  husky  she-Dogan — a  pippin  too — I  saw  her 
once.  Well,  John  gives  her  boxing  lessons.  And  the  next  time 
her  husband  started  to  rough-house,  she  licked  him  good  and 
proper.  Somebody  told  his  friends  and  they  joshed  him  so  he 
signed  the  pledge  out  of  sheer  shame.  But  that  isn't  all  about 
John — he's  got  more  courage  than  any  man  I  know — I  mean 
real  courage,  regular  hit-a-man-twice-as-big-as-yourself  courage. 
He's  naturally  the  sweetest  and  most  peaceable  citizen  on  earth. 

And  yet Say,  if  he  sees  a  fight  going  on  at  the  foot  of  the 

street,  he  runs  down  and  plunges  into  it  up  to  his  neck.  Doesn't 
make  any  difference  who  it  is  or  what  it's  about — just  so  it's  a 
fight.  John  needs  a  guardian.  He's  crazy.  He's  got  the  strength 
of  ten  thousand  gorillas.  And  if  there's  a  risk  of  life  he  can 
possibly  take,  he  takes  it.  I  used  to  have  a  fair  degree  of  the 
spirit  of  the  adventurer  myself.  But  travelling  with  John  has 
turned  me  into  the  most  quiet,  mild-mannered,  peaceable  gink 
you  ever  saw.  A  man  really  has  to  kick  me  in  the  face  now 
before  I  realise  I'm  insulted — I've  had  to  smooth  down  so  many 
fights  that  John  gets  into." 

"  Now  I  wouldn't  think  he  was  that  kind  at  all,"  Southward 
remarked  thoughtfully. 

"  Well,  who  would  ? "  Cameron  demanded.  "  Now  let's  talk 
about  ourselves." 


CHAPTER  II 

"WHAT  do  you  think  of  my  set?"  Southward  asked  Hester. 
"  Observe  (  set,'  "  she  added  parenthetically.  "  I  would  have  said 
'  setting '  before  I  met  Dwight  Cameron." 

"  It's  charming,"  Hester  answered,  "  except  the  flowers.  South 
ward,  you  can  make  flowers  grow,  but  you  can't  arrange  them 
prettily — you're  too  ruthless." 

The  table  was  laid  in  the  orchard  to  the  left  of  the  Drake 
house  and  in  its  deepest  shade.  The  heavy  August  air  was  so 
coloured  by  the  green  that  the  grass  threw  up  and  the  leaves 
threw  down  that  it  seemed  translucent,  almost  opaque.  It  might 
have  floated  away  like  a  huge  emerald  bubble  but  that  it  was 
held  in  by  the  closeness  of  the  ancient,  bent,  sagging,  umbrella- 
like  trees  that  stood  straight  or  sagged  listlessly  or  leaned  drunk- 
enly  or  knelt  outright,  opening  crazy  vistas  in  every  direction 
through  the  lush,  orchard-grass.  The  old  brass  of  the  samovar, 
the  old  blue  of  the  cups,  the  old  silver  of  the  spoons,  made  high 
lights  in  this  soft  gloom.  Southward  watched  Hester  as  she 
rearranged  the  flowers  in  the  big  Canton  bowl  on  the  table. 
With  strong  pulls  and  twists  her  slim  long  hands  forced  the 
dahlias  into  a  beautiful  composition. 

"  '  Swell '  is  the  word,"  said  Southward.  "  It  looks  to  me  like 
a  magazine-cover.  I  wish  I  had  a  greyhound  and  a  peacock  to 
make  it  really  ancestral." 

She  said  this  with  that  blue-and-black  glimmer  which,  with 
her,  always  betokened  humorous  appreciation.  That  gleam  rarely 
left  her  eyes  nowadays  and  as  though  life  were  one  long  enjoy 
ment,  her  soft  lips  parted  constantly  in  their  boy's  smile.  The 
open  V  of  her  middy-blouse  displayed  a  triangle  of  tanned  flesh, 
in  which  rose  warred  with  bronze.  This  same  colour  lay  on  her 
smooth  cheeks  and  on  her  bared  forearms. 

Change  had  come  into  Hester's  face  too.  It  had  lighted  in 
some  indescribable  way.  A  torch  burned  constantly  behind  her 
eyes.  She  was  looking  particularly  well;  for  the  white  linen- 
skirt  and  middy-blouse  were  too  simple  to  hurt  her  appearance. 
And  the  triangle  of  blond  flesh  at  the  neck  was  in  her  case  just 
touched  with  the  velvety  pink  of  perpetual  burn. 

87 


88  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  Well,  Casanova'll  have  to  do,"  Hester  suggested.  She  turned 
to  a  monstrous  black  cat  who  sunned  himself  luxuriously  in  a 
patch  of  sunlight  that  had  floated  down  through  the  tree-openings. 
"  He's  ten  years  old,  isn't  he  ?  That's  ancestral  enough  for  a 
cat." 

"  Quite !  "  agreed  Southward.  "  Say,  they  won't  have  any  idea 
from  this  lay-out  that  we  haven't  been  serving  tea  every  afternoon 
since  we  were  born,  will  they?  Ancestral  mahogany,  china, 
silver,  and  bamboo.  I  don't  know  what  more  they  can  ask  in 
the  way  of  scenery.  Little  they'll  guess  that,  inside,  the  lower 
rooms  are  one  refined  orgy  of  haircloth,  jig-sawed  oak,  and  cut 
glass." 

"  They  probably  won't  notice  anything,"  Hester  said.  "  Men 
don't." 

"  Don't  you  fool  yourself,  Hetter,"  Southward  disagreed. 
"  These  men  do.  They're  different  from  any  men  we've  ever 
known.  They  notice  everything — everything — the  least  little 
thing!  Of  course  Mr.  Cameron's  a  reporter — it's  his  job.  But 
sometimes  it  startles  me,  I  must  confess,  especially  when  I'm 
trying  to  slip  something  over  on  him." 

"  They're  the  most  interesting  men  that  I  ever  met  in  my  life," 
Hester  said.  "  I'm  enjoying  them  so  much  that  I  can't  believe 
it's  true.  I'm  so  afraid  I'll  wake  up.  Why  it  seems  to  me  I've 
lived  a  century  this  last  week." 

"  Yes,  they're  interesting,"  Southward  admitted.  "  At  first  I 
wondered  what  their  game  was.  I'll  admit  it.  You  know  I'm 
suspicious  of  men." 

"  I  know  it,  Southward,"  Hester  commented  in  a  baffled  tone. 
"  And  I  can't  see  why." 

"Well,"  Southward  laughed  a  little  uneasily.  "Perhaps  I'll 
tell  you  sometime.  But  they're  regular  fellows  all  right,"  she 
ended  evasively. 

"  Did  you  go  in  swimming  last  night  ? "  Hester  asked. 

"  I  did ! "  said  Southward,  her  eyes  all  glimmer,  "  and  the 
night  before  and  the  night  before  that  and  the  night  before  that. 
It's  a  regular  engagement.  And  nobody's  discovered  it  yet.  Of 
course  this  house  is  a  tomb  by  ten  o'clock  and  nobody  ever  goes 
near  the  pond.  That's  part  of  the  lark  of  it — the  secrecy." 

Hester  did  not  say  anything.  For  an  instant  she  looked 
troubled.  But  ultimately  she  burst  into  laughter,  though  palpably 
in  spite  of  herself.  "  I  love  it !  "  she  confessed. 

"  The  thing  I  like  most  about  them,"  Southward  went  on, 
reverting  to  a  former  theme,  "  is  that  they're  as  fond  of  each  other 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  89 

as  you  and  I.  You  ought  to  hear  Dwight  Cameron  talk  about 
John  Smith.  He  says  that  of  all  the  men  he  knows,  he'd  pick 
John  soonest  as  a  husband  for  his  sister.  He  says  John's  as  able 
as  the  deuce,  the  finest,  straightest,  cleanest  man  morally — and 
a  perfect  specimen  physically." 

Hester's  brow  gathered  into  folds.  "  Now  what  does  that  make 

me  think  of "  she  meditated  aloud.  "  Oh,  yes,  I  know.  That 

night  we  stepped  in  to  see  Gert  Beebee  and  the  baby.  Heavens, 
doesn't  that  seem  a  long  time  ago?  Do  you  remember  that  what 
she  said — that  she'd  picked  the  best-looking  man  she  ever  saw 
for  the  father  of  her  child  ? " 

"  Yes — and  Hetter — I  stopped  in  to  see  Gert  the  other  day. 
She's  as  happy  as  the  day  is  long  with  that  kid.  She  says  she 
realises  that  she's  always  wanted  a  baby  and  now  she's  got  it, 
it  doesn't  make  any  particular  difference  to  her  how  it  came. 
I  regretted  bitterly  that  Mrs.  Wallis  wasn't  there  to  hear 
that." 

"  It's  wonderful,  isn't  it  ? "  Hester  said.  "  I  could  almost  find 
it  in  my  heart  to  envy  Gert." 

"  Here  they  come,"  Southward  exclaimed,  darting  an  oblique 
glance  up  the  North  Lane.  "  Let  us  sit  down  and  be  dis 
covered  conversing  with  a  languid  elegance."  She  slid  into  one 
of  the  Indian  chairs,  leaned  back,  lolled.  "  Do  you  like  opera, 
Miss  Crowell  ?  "  she  asked  in  a  bored  tone. 

Hester,  sitting  stiffly  upright,  laughed  and  in  the  laughing, 
relaxed  a  little.  "  Not  so  well  as  the  drama,"  she  came  back. 

"  Good  for  you,  Hester ! "  Southward  encouraged  her.  "  I 
simply  dote  on  Wagner  myself.  Oh,  good  afternoon ! "  she  raised 
her  voice.  "  Hester  and  I  are  giving  an  imitation  of  two  ladies 
sustaining  a  vivid  conversation  on  art  and  letters  while  they  lan 
guish  for  the  men  to  arrive." 

The  two  men  stopped.  "  You've  nothing  on  us,"  Dwight  Cameron 
said.  "  We've  been  trying  to  plan  an  entrance  like  a  leading-man." 

"  I  had  hoped  for  a  rustic  gate,"  added  Smith.  "  It  was  my 
intention  to  vault  lightly  over."  He  stopped  an  instant.  "  Miss 
Drake,"  he  announced,  "  I've  simply  got  to  stand  here  until  I  get 
all  this." 

"  Stand  there  for  an  hour,"  Southward  said.  She  walked  slowly 
over  to  their  side.  Hester  followed  her.  The  two  men  stood  silent, 
staring  about  them.  The  two  girls  stood,  looking  alternately  from 
the  men  to  the  scene. 

The  Drake  house  was  really  a  mansion,  perfectly  preserved,  left 
over  from  high-coloured,  post-colonial  days.  The  front  and  back 


90  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

were  of  wood,  the  sides  of  brick;  the  latter  bore  each  the  iron  S 
typical  of  the  epoch.  It  had  been  a  big  square  bulk  at  first,  but 
later  an  ell  had  been  joined  to  it  at  a  right  angle.  By  means  of 
many  additions — a  barn  first,  then  shed  after  shed — this  ell  ran  a 
long  way  off  to  the  side.  The  paint,  originally  white,  had  softened 
to  a  grey  that  was  like  silver  velvet  and  the  barn-doors,  originally 
green,  had  faded  to  a  blue  that  was  like  peacock  silk.  The  main 
house  still  stood  on  a  high  terrace.  In  front,  sloping  down  from 
the  beautiful,  carved,  fan-lighted  door-way  through  gigantic  box- 
hedges,  ran  a  flagged  path.  The  path  stopped  at  an  elaborate 
wooden  gate  which  was  part  of  a  fence  as  exquisitely  designed  and 
executed  as  a  piece  of  carved  ivory;  a  combination  of  posts  which 
sustained  urns  and  of  palings  which  supported  garlands.  On  the 
white  of  this  fence  also,  time  had  laid  a  grey  plushy  softness. 
And  within  the  enclosure  there  was  not  a  flash  of  alien  colour,  not 
a  hint  of  irregularity  of  shape.  Everything  was  green  and  of 
formal  cut;  it  might  have  been  Italy.  The  bosomy  box-hedges, 
from  which  not  a  leaf  was  missing,  struck  the  highest  note  of 
colour — a  clear,  vivid,  piercing,  sacred  green.  And  matching  the 
hedges  with  shapes  as  exact  and  geometric,  pines,  cypresses,  pow 
dered  spruces  ran  through  all  the  lower  shades  of  green.  The 
Drake  mansion  mouldered.  It  had  a  look — the  woods  sweeping 
close  around  it — almost  of  decay.  But  it  was  the  exquisite  decay 
of  a  gentlewoman  who,  in  spite  of  blighting  poverty,  faces  the 
world  with  all  the  family  traditions  in  her  bearing. 

"  Good  Lord!  "  Cameron  said  at  last.  "  Isn't  it ?  "  He  did 

not  complete  his  question. 

"  It's "  John  Smith  did  not  complete  his  answer.  "  And  this 

orchard  here  and  the  flowers  beyond.  And  then  the  trees 

Wow!" 

Southward  stared  towards  the  table;  the  others  followed,  the 
men  still  foaming  exclamatory  adjectives  and  broken  phrases. 

"  Isn't  this  orchard  a  pippin? "  Smith  went  on.  "  There  are  no 
orchards  like  the  New  England  orchards." 

"  It's  a  novel,"  Cameron  answered.  "  Plenty  of  '  spirit  of  place ' 
here."  He  looked  about  like  a  man  under  a  spell.  For  an  instant 
the  others  were  silent,  as  though  they  might  all  have  fallen  under 
that  spell. 

It  was  one  of  those  moments  between  breezes  when  nature  seems 
to  sink  into  a  trance.  The  quiet  air  was  like  a  greenish  crystal. 
The  still  trees  were  almost  stiff.  The  orchard  looked  like  a  gigantic 
replica  of  one  of  those  carvings  that  the  Japanese  make  from  jade. 
Verd  antique,  tourmaline,  malachite,  the  tint  varied,  but  it  was 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  91 

always  green.  Translucent  where  the  sun  caught  it,  it  thickened 
below.  Olive  shadows  lay  sombre  and  solid  under  the  bushes. 

"  It's  the  prettiest  orchard  in  Shayneford,"  Hester  said,  smiling 
her  sympathy,  "  I've  always  said  that." 

"  Who  takes  care  of  the  garden? "  Smith  went  on,  still  standing. 

"  I  do,"  Southward  answered  promptly,  "  with  these  fair  hands, 
do  I  do  it." 

"  She's  a  perfect  marvel  with  flowers,"  Hester  interpolated.  "  She 
can  make  anything  grow." 

Dwight  Cameron  had  already  seated  himself.  His  gaze  drifted 
gradually  to  Southward,  dipped  an  instant,  darted  away,  came  back, 
stayed.  John  Smith's  look  went  to  her  also  for  an  instant  of 
appraisement.  "  May  I  smoke,  Miss  Drake?  "  he  asked. 

Southward  nodded.  Smith  pulled  from  his  pocket  a  pipe  and 
a  rubber  crescent  of  tobacco.  He  filled  the  bowl,  thumbed  it  down 
hard,  lighted  it,  began  to  puff.  He  seated  himself  where  he  could 
look  at  the  velvety  f agade  of  the  house.  "  I  should  think  she 
could,"  he  was  all  the  time  saying,  "  I  should  think  anything 
would  grow  for  Miss  Drake.  I  would.  I'm  frightened  to  death 
of  her.  I  wouldn't  dare  disobey  her." 

"  Well,  see  that  you  remember  that,"  Southward  warned  him. 
It  was  obvious  that  this  pleased  her.  She  laughed.  "  You  know 

I've  an  awful  temper — the  Drake Have  you  heard  of  the 

Drake  temper  yet? " 

She  spoke  banteringly  but  underneath  her  badinage  peered  the 
pride  with  which  people  always  mention  idiosyncratic  family  faults. 

"No,"  said  John  Smith,  "I  haven't.  But  I'd  like  to."  He 
seated  himself  at  the  table,  still  puffing  comfortably.  "  Go  on !  " 

"  You'll  hear  of  it  sooner  or  later.  So  you  might  as  well  hear 
it  from  me.  The  Drakes  are  famous  for  their  tempers  and,  if  I 

do  say  it  as  shouldn't,  their  courage.  My  grandfather She 

lifted  the  cover  of  the  samovar  and  peered  in.  *'  — killed 

Tea'll  be  ready  when  this  samovar  gets  good  and  ready  and  not 
an  instant  before — a  man  once."  She  put  the  cover  back  on  the 
samovar. 

"  Well,  if  he  did  it  in  the  degage  way  in  which  you  relate  it," 
Dwight  Cameron  commented,  "  it  must  have  been  a  very  elegant 
event." 

Southward  showed  the  edge  of  her  little  teeth  below  the  raspberry 
of  her  upper  lip.  "  No,  he  was  a  little  excited  at  the  time.  It 
came  about  this  way.  Grandfather  was  passing  Nate  Warner's 
house  one  day.  He  heard  a  woman  screaming.  Nate  Warner,  I 
should  say,  was  the  village  bully,  a  member  of  a  degenerate  family 


92  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

living  down  Pumpkin  Hollow  way.  Grandfather  ran  round  the 
back  of  the  house  and  found  Nate  beating  his  mother.  Grand 
father  rushed  straight  towards  them,  yelling  to  Nate  to  stop.  Nate's 
answer  came  from  a  revolver.  And  he  shot  grandfather  twice,  once 
in  the  leg  and  once  in  the  thigh.  But  grandfather  kept  right  on 
coming.  He  seized  Warner  before  he  could  shoot  him  again, 
yanked  the  revolver  from  him  and  they  struggled  back  and  forth, 
grandfather  bleeding  from  his  two  wounds  and  of  course  the  old 
woman  by  this  time  beating  grandfather  from  the  rear."  South 
ward  glimmered  her  appreciation  of  this  picture.  "  Well,  sud 
denly  the  struggle  ended.  Nate  dropped — grandfather  had  shot 
him." 

"  Pretty  play,"  Dwight  Cameron  remarked.  John  Smith  puffed 
tranquilly  on,  his  gaze  going  from  Southward's  face  to  Hester's 
and  back  by  way  of  the  gloom-filled  orchard.  "  What  happened 
next  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  grandfather  was  arrested  for  murder,  but  the  coroner's 
jury  acquitted  him  next  day.  He  took  care  of  old  Mrs. 
Warner  until  she  died.  And  of  course  she  lived  in  a  comfort  she 
had  never  known.  The  curious  part  of  it  was  that  she  realised 
this  and  grew  very  fond  of  grandfather.  She  was  always  sending 
up  to  the  house  dishes  of  things  she'd  cooked  for  him.  I  remember 
particularly  because  he  always  gave  them  to  me.  Oh,  grandfather," 
she  called  without  stirring.  "  Here  he  comes  out,  up  from  the 
pond.  I  want  you  to  meet  him." 

Mr.  Drake's  crooked,  squat,  powerful  figure  had  emerged  from 
the  grape-arbour  at  the  back.  Limping  through  the  high  grass 
in  the  crouch  of  his  perpetual  cramp,  he  had  more  than  ever 
the  look  of  a  crushed  gorilla.  The  men  arose.  "  Grandfather, 
this  is  Mr.  Smith  and  Mr.  Cameron — my  grandfather,  Mr.  Drake." 

The  men  shook  hands. 

"Well,  how  be  ye  enjoying  camping  out?"  Mr.  Drake  asked. 

"  Very  much,"  John  Smith  answered.  "  Will  you  have  a  cigar, 
Mr.  Drake?" 

"  Don't  mind  if  I  do,"  Mr.  Drake  admitted.  "  Them  fellers  that 
went  out  tramping  come  back  yit  ? " 

"  No,"  said  Cameron,  "  but  we  expect  them  any  day  now." 

"  I  walked  from  Provincetown  to  Boston  when  I  was  a  boy 
once,"  Mr.  Drake  confided.  "  But  I  must  confess,  I  ain't  much 
on  walking.  Sea-faring  men  most  gen'ally  ain't.  Still  I  remem 
ber "  He  plunged  into  reminiscences. 

"  Tea's  ready,"  Southward  said  as  he  concluded.  "  Won't  you 
wait  and  have  a  cup  of  tea  with  us,  grandfather?  " 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  93 

"  Not  in  them  little  cups,"  replied  Mr.  Drake  with  some  of 
Southward's  forthright  scorn,  "  I'd  jess  as  soon  drink  out  of 
thimbles." 

Southward  laughed.  "  Well,  go  in  the  house  and  get  a  bowl," 
she  defied  him. 

"  No,  I  got  some  work  in  the  barn  I  want  to  do,"  Mr.  Drake 
put  her  off.  "  Besides  I  don't  ever  eat  between  meals."  He  limped 
off.  It  was  extraordinary  how  much  strength  there  was  in  his 
animal-like  shamble. 

Perhaps  the  two  city-men  thought  of  that.  At  any  rate,  they 
paid  him  the  involuntary  tribute  of  watching  him  out  of 
sight. 

"He's  the  man  that  did  the  killing?"  Cameron  questioned. 

"Yes,  and  five  years  ago,  he  almost  did  another,"  said  South 
ward.  "  Oh,  he's  got  the  Drake  temper,  all  right,"  she  added 
proudly.  "  You've  got  to  handle  him  with  gloves." 

Dwight  Cameron  looked  at  her  with  all  his  temperamental 
arrogance  flaring  in  his  face — as  though  she  had  challenged  him. 
"  Have  you  got  it  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  You  betchu !  "  Southward  answered  with  fervour. 

"  You  haven't  got  any  such  thing,  Southward,"  Hester  asserted 
indignantly,  "  you're  the  sweetest-tempered  person  I  ever  knew." 

"  You've  never  seen  it,  Hester,  that's  all,"  Southward  explained. 

"  I'd  love  to  see  it,"  Cameron  interpolated. 

"  Easiest  exhibition  I  give,"  Southward  laughed.  "  Oh,  thank 
you,  Charlotte." 

Charlotte  had  come  padding  slowly  across  the  grass,  a  plate  of 
cookies,  done  up  in  a  napkin,  in  her  hand.  She  made  no  sound. 
The  men  turned.  They  stared  for  a  paralysed  instant  before 
they  arose. 

The  sun  had  come  out  white;  clear  and  gold,  it  poured  down 
upon  her.  Charlotte  was  big.  She  was  powerful.  Her  eyes 
showed  their  blindness;  yet  they  were  fathomless,  rutilant.  They 
were  sunk  above  greyish  ruts  that  years  of  sleeplessness  had 
seared  half-way  down  her  cheeks  and  below  splay  eyebrows  that 
locked  over  her  nose  in  a  double  arch.  Her  hair  was  a  black 
jungle.  Thick  coarse  locks  beat  down  over  her  forehead  and 
caught  their  claws  in  her  neck.  A  brown  mole  on  one  cheek 
seemed  to  accent  this  hairiness.  Her  skin  was  dead;  her  figure 
was  set. 

Southward's  face  softened.  "  My  cousin,  Miss  Howes,"  she  said 
tenderly  and  proudly.  "  Mr.  Cameron  and  Mr.  Smith,  Charlotte." 
Charlotte  produced  two  awkward  bows,  but  apparently  words  were 


94  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

beyond  the  scope  of  her  embarrassment.  "  If  you  need  more 
cookies,  Southward,  I'm  keeping  them  hot.  I'll  bring  them  out 
to  you."  She  departed. 

"  Your  aunt  is  not  stone  blind  ?  "  Smith  inquired. 

"  No.    She  sees  the  outlines  of  things." 

"  How  long  has  this  been  ? " 

"  Since  she  was  about  twenty-eight." 

"  Poor  soul !  "  Smith  said  compassionately.  "  Poor  creature !  " 
The  pleasant  look  that  filmed  his  eyes  melted;  the  sombreness 
underneath  blazed  up  to  the  surface.  Then,  "  How  did  you 
happen  to  be  called  Southward  ? "  He  was  obviously  changing  the 
subject. 

"  It's  been  a  family-name  for  three  generations/'  Southward 
explained.  "  My  grandmother  was  Southward  and  her  mother. 
My  great,  great,  great-grandfather  gave  his  first  daughter  that 
name.  Sentiment  was  mixed  up  with  it.  It  had  something  to  do 
with  an  early  love-affair.  For  some  reason  or  other,  he  always 
preferred  to  sail  southward.  That's  very  different  from  grand 
father "  She  nodded  her  head  in  the  direction  Mr.  Drake  had 

taken.  "  When  he  was  a  boy,  he  went  into  the  Arctic  Circle  and 
he's  crazy  to  go  again — says  he  will  too  sometime  before  he  dies. 
Most  girls  hate  their  names  but  I've  always  liked  mine."  She 
paused,  pushed  the  cups  one  at  a  time,  under  the  faucet  of  the 
samovar,  filled  them,  served  her  guests  to  sugar,  cream,  cookies, 
all  with  deft  efficient  motions  that  took  the  least  possible  time. 
Her  hands  moved  so  quickly  that  they  seemed  positively  to  flutter 
and  yet  they  always  achieved  their  errands  with  movements  that, 
analysed,  consisted  only  of  direct  advance  and  retreat.  "  Hester 
hates  her  name." 

"  Who  wouldn't  hate  Hester  Etta  ?  "  Hester  asked. 

"  I  like  Hester  very  much,"  John  Smith  put  in. 

"  When  anybody  says  Southward  Drake,"  Southward  continued, 
"  I  always  see  a  ship  with  all  sails  set  beating  against  a  storm." 
There  rippled  into  her  voice  a  sudden  thrill.  "  I  take  it  as  an 
omen  that  I'm  going  to  travel  sometime." 

John  Smith  put  down  his  pipe  and  drank  his  tea  in  one  or  two 
decisive  movements.  He  pulled  out  a  cigarette-case  of  tortoise- 
shell.  He  offered  it  dumbly  to  Cameron;  the  latter  dumbly 
spurned  it.  Smith  picked  out  a  cigarette  for  himself,  lighted  it. 
He  sat  there  meditatively  listening  to  the  conversation. 

Meanwhile  the  sun  came  out  of  the  cloud;  the  day  boiled  white. 
The  light  ran  down  the  boughs  of  the  old  trees;  it  streamed  down 
the  tree-trunks.  It  dripped  from  the  ends  of  the  leaves  to  the 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  95 

grass;  it  trickled  between  stems  along  the  ground.  It  fused  with 
the  shadows  until  the  depths  faded  out  of  things.  The  leaves 
grew  transparent;  they  melted  to  a  green,  more  soft,  more  deli 
cate.  The  lush  grass  turned  pale  as  beryl.  The  under  sides  of 
the  foliage  showed  glaucous.  Near,  there  lay  the  faint  green  of 
early  apples.  Far  stretched  bands  of  shining  aqua-marine.  The 
light  beat  into  the  atmosphere,  flattened  it,  thinned  it.  It  grew 
luminous.  It  was  no  longer  like  an  emerald;  it  was  a  bubble, 
sun-shot.  More  and  more  tenuous,  the  bubble  grew.  It  burst 
floating  in  filmy  strips.  Stabbing  through  leaf-interstices,  the 
sun  laid  the  floor  of  the  orchard  with  flakes  of  glittering  gold. 
And  ever  back  of  this,  the  old  house  glimmered  silver  white  and 
grey,  velvety;  peacock  blue  and  green,  lustrous. 

Smith's  eyes  went  at  intervals  into  the  globular  depths  of  the 
old  trees,  but  these  forays  were  infrequent  and  brief.  Often  his 
gaze,  luminous  under  a  perpendicular  frown,  went  from  South 
ward's  vivid  face  to  Hester's  dreamy  one.  Cameron  had  scarcely 
removed  his  eyes  from  Southward  since  he  sat  down. 

"  I  like  your  name  too,  Miss  Drake,"  Smith  said  as  Southward 
concluded.  "  May  I  call  you  Southward  ?  " 

"  Certainly."     Southward  gave  him  an  amused,  oblique  glance. 

"  And  may  I  call  you  Hester  ? "    John  Smith  turned. 

"If  you  wish,"  Hester  faltered.  And  she  blushed.  Her  blush 
was  cataclysm.  A  thick  murky  colour  flooded  her  skin,  ran  under 
it,  ran  over  it.  It  hung  there  a  while  like  a  cloud;  it  actually 
obscured  her  expression. 

"  This  country  must  be  full  of  wonderful  stories,  Southward," 
Dwight  Cameron  said  easily.  "  It's  always  been  a  sea-captain's 
country." 

"  It  is  full  of  them,"  Southward  agreed.  "  We  can  tell — Hester 
and  I — more  stories  than  you  can  shake  a  stick  at.  That's  our 
quarrel  with  it — that  once  it  was  so  exciting  and  splendid  and 
romantic.  And  now — so  dull  and  dead.  Hester  and  I  can  remem 
ber  only  the  tail-end  of  the  wonderful  period,  but  we've  heard 
people  talk  about  it  all  our  lives.  Why,  when  our  mothers  were 
little  girls,  sea-captains  were  as  thick  as  blueberries.  They  said 
that  when  the  ships  came  home,  the  village  parties  would  be  the 
most  wonderful  things.  And  picturesque !  The  women  would  all 
blossom  out  in  the  most  extraordinary  clothes,  such  beautiful  em 
broidered  crepe  shawls,  such  pongees  and  penas,  such  necklaces 
and  fans!  And  then  the  furniture  in  the  houses;  bamboo  and 
teak.  And  china — oh,  the  china.  Tell  them  about  your  china, 
Hotter." 


96  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  Oh,  it  isn't  anything  special,"  Hester  said.  "  Only  we  have 
one  closet,  piled  high  with  Canton  Medallion — three  sets — two 
hundred  pieces  to  the  set.  It  hasn't  been  disturbed  in  my  life 
time.  But,  that  isn't  anything.  When  Southward  cleaned  out 
her  garret,  two  or  three  years  ago,  we  found  three  barrels  of 
Lowestoft  that  had  never  been  unpacked." 

"  And  as  for  vases  and  boxes  and  queer  Oriental  truck  of  all 
descriptions,  you  ought  to  see  what  I  dug  out,"  Southward  con 
tinued. 

"  But  after  all,  these  are  only  things,"  Hester  burst  in.  "  You 
should  hear  some  of  the  tales  of  mutiny  and  torture  and  death 
on  the  high  seas — the  legends  of  the  whaling  days.  Why,  in  my 
great-grandfather's  time,  the  men  of  Shayneford  knew  the  ports 
of  the  Orient  and  the  Mediterranean  as  they  knew  their  pockets. 
They  could  not  get  about  in  Boston,  and  New  York  was  absolutely 
unknown  territory.  But  they  carried  the  entire  map  of  the  other 
side  of  the  world  in  their  minds." 

The  blush  of  Hester's  embarrassment  had  died  down  and  now 
a  different  emotion  put  another  blush  in  its  place.  This  was 
delicate;  a  slow  filmy  pink  tide  in  her  cheek.  With  it  came  a 
deep,  soft  gleam  to  her  eyes. 

Cameron's  look  kindled  too.  Suddenly  he  jumped  up  and  began 
pacing  up  and  down  the  orchard.  "  Good  Lord !  what  material !  " 
he  ejaculated.  "  Promise  me,  Southward,  and  you  too,  Hester — — " 
He  reeled  off  their  names  glibly  as  though  he  had  always  said 
them.  "  — that  you'll  tell  me  everything  you  can  remember  of  it. 
By  George,  I'm  going  to  start  a  note-book." 

"  Better's  better  than  I  am,"  Southward  said.  "  She  remembers 
a  great  deal  more — she's  always  been  more  interested.  But  still 
I'm  interested  too.  We've  remembered  it  because  all  our  lives 
we've  cursed  the  fate  that  made  us  members  of  this  generation. 
You  see  the  travel-instinct  is  in  our  blood.  Dozens  of  sea-going 
ancestry  have  left  us  that  inheritance.  Hester  and  I  vowed  last 
night  we'd  go  round  the  world  together  just  as  soon  as  we  could 
pull  loose  from  this  hole." 

"  What  keeps  you  here  ?  "  John  Smith  demanded. 

"  Responsibilities,"  Southward  answered  evasively. 

"  I  see."  John  Smith  threw  aside  his  cigarette-end,  pulled  a 
tortoise-shell  cigar-case  from  his  pocket,  offered  it  dumbly  to 
Cameron  who  dumbly  spurned  it,  extracted  a  cigar,  lighted  it, 
proceeded  to  give  the  situation  luminous  attention. 

He  was  calm,  but  Cameron,  striding  violently  up  and  down  the 
orchard  and  pulling  violently  at  his  expired  pipe,  was  still  wide- 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  97 

eyed  and  fiery-eyed.  u  Start  now  and  tell  us  some  yarns,"  he 
begged.  "  I'll  eat  up  every  word  of  them." 

The  sun  went  into  retirement  behind  a  cloud  that  ultimately 
merged  with  oncoming  twilight.  The  light  ran  into  the  earth; 
shadow  took  its  place,  crepuscular,  vitreous.  The  orchard  seemed 
to  turn  into  some  strange  under-sea  country,  the  people  in  it  to 
dimly-seen  mer-creatures.  The  house  retreated  into  the  shadow. 

With  the  help  of  Hester's  reinforcing  detail,  Southward  told 
stories  of  Shayneford. 

u  Well,"  Dwight  Cameron  said  to  John  Smith  as  they  walked 
back  from  Long  Lanes  to  their  camp.  "  Perhaps  you  don't  realise 
it,  John.  If  not,  I'm  telling  you.  This  is  the  star-romance  of 
my  life.  Wasn't  that  situation  a  wonder — the  beautiful  old  house, 
decaying  on  its  terraces  like  a  gentlewoman  who  prefers  to  starve 
in  solitude  rather  than  mingle  with  the  canaille?  And  that  pippin 
of  a  girl — so  wise,  so  straight  from  the  shoulder,  so  dead  onto 
anything." 

"  Yes.  I  get  all  that,"  John  Smith  agreed.  "  And  more.  For, 
apparently,  it's  a  house  of  the  dead — the  crippled  grandfather, 
the  blind  aunt,  and  then  you  must  remember  that  there's  an 
invisible  paralytic  concealed  somewhere  on  the  premises — remem 
ber,  Manning  told  us  about  her  ?  " 

"  Sure ! "  Cameron  answered  absently.  "  I  remember.  And 
then,"  he  went  on  eagerly,  "  in  contrast  with  that  dead-house 
atmosphere,  that  girl's  energy,  initiative,  audacity,  and  dash.  It 
certainly  has  set  the  wheels  going  round  for  me.  By  God,  I'd  like 
to  write  a  novel  to-night!  " 

"Why  don't  you  start  it?"  Smith  queried. 

"  I  believe  I  will.  And  I'm  going  to  keep  a  note-book.  South 
ward's  talk  is  full  of  dope.  She's  one  of  those  women — there  are 
so  few  of  them — whose  talk  stirs  the  creative  machinery." 

"  See  here,  Dwight,"  Smith  remonstrated,  "  remember  she's  a 
country-girl.  And  you're  not  a  marrying  man." 

"  Don't  get  scared,  John,"  Dwight  said.  "  If  you  don't  know 
it  and  haven't  guessed  it  I'll  tell  you  now.  I  always  play  fair 
with  women.  By  the  way,  what  do  you  think  of  Miss  Crowell — 
Hester?" 

"  I  think  she's  the  more  interesting  of  the  two  because " 

Smith  hesitated. 

"  Because  she's  so  much  to  be  pitied."  Dwight  finished  it  for 
him.  "  John,  you're  a  scream.  You  can  be  depended  on  inevitably 
to  pick  the  wall-flower."  He  threw  his  arm  affectionately  over 
Smith's  shoulder.  "  You  damned  old  fool,  if  I  didn't  like  you 


98  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

so  much,  I'd  tell  you  what  I  think  of  that  yellow  Christian 
Endeavour  streak  that's  in  you.  Now  don't  hit  me,"  he  ended 
in  a  note  of  burlesque  entreaty.  "  Even  if  you  haven't  licked 
anybody  for  nearly  &  week,  I'm  not  strong  enough  to  take  you  on 
yet." 


CHAPTER  III 

IN  the  garret  all  the  lamps  and  candles  were  going.  Southward, 
arrayed  in  her  prince's  coat,  sat  on  the  couch,  a  book  in  her  hand. 
But  although  she  turned  the  pages  at  regular  intervals,  her  eye 
kept  skidding  over  their  tops,  kept  fixing  on  space.  At  those 
moments,  her  expression  was  so  concentrated  that  her  very  eye 
seemed  an  ear.  Suddenly  a  sound  broke,  the  bass  th-th-thrump— 
th-th-thrump — th-th-thrump  of  a  frog.  Southward  dropped  her 
book,  seized  her  electric  torch,  stole  silently  into  the  ell.  She 
stood  in  the  parlour  an  instant,  her  head  bent,  the  torch  pouring 
a  circle  of  watery  light  onto  the  carpet.  Came  all  the  accustomed 
sounds  of  sleep,  Charlotte's  hoarse  breathing,  Mrs.  Drake's  falsetto 
whistling,  Mr.  Drake's  bass  rumble.  Southward  tiptoed  back  to 
the  entrance  of  the  main  house,  opened  the  door  gently,  stepped  in. 

When  she  returned,  Dwight  Cameron  accompanied  her. 

She  moved  silently  up  the  three  flights  of  stairs.  Silently  he 
followed  her.  Once  in  the  garret,  "  You  can  make  all  the  noise 
you  want  now,"  she  assured  him.  "  It's  impossible  for  them  to 
hear  anything  below,  with  two  stories  between  us." 

But  Dwight  made  sound  of  no  kind  at  first.  He  stood  in  the 
centre  of  the  room,  staring.  "  Why,  this  is  a  regular  place,"  he 
commented  finally  in  a  df.zed  voice.  "  May  I  look  at  everything?  " 
he  asked  after  another  interval. 

"  That's  what  I  brought  you  here  for."  Southward  stretched 
herself  on  the  chaise-longue  in  her  favourite  attitude,  upright,  her 
feet  stretched  straight  before  her,  her  hands  clasped  back  of  her 
head. 

"  I  don't  know  where  to  begin,"  Dwight  admitted.  "  The  whole 
effect  is — and  then  my  eyes  keep  catching — it's  like  the  set  in  one 
of  those — it  makes  me  think  of  the  Arabian  Nights.  Lord,  I  have 

friends  in  New  York  who'd  like  to  see It's  awful  and  it's 

wonderful.     Where  cl'.l  you  .^et  that  stuff?"     He  pointed  to  the 
crepe  that  covered  the  walls. 

"  I  found  a  bale  of  it  wher  I  cleaned  up  the  garret.  I  suppose 
somebody  brought  it  from  India.  I  saw  some  East  Indian  stuff 
something  like  it  in  Boston  once.  What  for  it  was  brought  here 
I  dunno.  It  was  faded  and  moth-eaten  in  spots — and  mildewed — 
apparently  it  has  been  mined  on  at  some  time." 

99 


100  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  It's  a  wonderful  colour,"  Cameron  commented.  "  Amazing ! 
It  turns  this  place  into  a  rajah's  quarters.  It  makes  me  think  of 
Salome  and  Salambo  and,  oh  Lord,  the  Bible  and  Kipling  and 
Conrad.  All  this  Chinese  stuff  is  sailor-loot,  isn't  it?" 

Southward  nodded. 

Cameron's  reporter-gaze  was  going  everywhere  in  quick,  sharp- 
glanced  dashes.  He  stopped  before  a  shoal  of  magazine-cuts, 
pinned  with  thumb-tacks  on  the  wall.  "  Rodin !  "  he  exclaimed, 
"  and  post-impressionism !  "  He  surveyed  the  desk.  "  Tanagras 
too !  "  He  began  to  move  about.  "  Of  course  you  know  that  all 
this  old  furniture  is  exceptionally  good." 

"  Yes,  Hester  and  I  got  interested  in  antiques  a  while  ago.  We 
got  some  books  out  of  the  Library  and  studied  up." 

Cameron  turned  on  her  a  look  from  which  all  the  sharpness 
had  gone ;  observation  had  changed  to  analysis.  "  And  do  you  like 
old  stuff  yourself  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  You  ought  to  have  been  brought  up  on  haircloth  and  white 
marble  and  jig-sawed  oak,"  Southward  answered,  "  to  know  how 
much.  You  ought  to  see  our  downstairs  rooms;  they're  filled  with 
grandmother's  stuff.  The  house  looks  as  though  it  had  been  fur 
nished  with  cigar-coupons."  She  knitted  her  brows  an  instant. 
"  But  to  be  perfectly  honest  with  you — and  with  myself,  which  is 
a  great  deal  more  important  to  me — I  don't  care  the  way  Hester 
does.  Hester  really  loves  old  furniture.  She  feels  towards  a  good 
old  piece  as  towards  a  good  old  person.  I  don't.  I  like  it  because 
it's  simple  and  in  the  long  run,  more  fitting  and  useful.  In  point 
of  fact,  things  don't  make  much  of  a  hit  with  me,  I  guess." 

"  I  see,"  said  Cameron ;  but  apparently  he  did  not  see.  He 
said  this  in  a  baffled  tone  and  he  moved  over  to  the  sideboard 
and  stood  staring  at  it.  Obviously  his  gaze  did  not  focus  on  the 
wonder  of  age-blackened  and  time-polished  surface  combined  with 
feathery  inlay  that  met  it.  For  he  suddenly  whirled  on  her. 

"Do  you  know  how  wonderful  this  all  is?"  he  demanded  in  a 
stern  voice.  "  This  magnificent  old  house,  this  glorious  old  fur 
niture,  that  gorgeous  Chinese  truck — and  you  ?  " 

"  I  know  perfectly  well  how  wonderful  I  am,"  Southward  an 
swered  equably,  "  if  that  helps  any." 

"  Well,  you're  a  new  one  on  me,"  Dwight  almost  sighed.  "  I 
don't  mind  confessing  that." 

"  That's  flattering  from  a  gentleman  of  so  profound  a  metro 
politan  experience,"  Southward  admitted.  "  Very  flattering !  I 
thought  New  York  was  just  chockful  of  women  who  were  inter 
esting  and  different." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  101 

"  It  is,"  Cameron  answered  promptly.  "  It's  loaded  to  the 
gunwales  with  them — all  original  and  different  in  exactly  the  same 
way — all  imported  at  a  terrific  expense  from  Oshkosh,  Canandaigua, 
Scituate,  Oklahoma,  and  The  Needles,  every  one  of  them  guar 
anteed  to  be  a  Good  Sport,  a  Good  Indian,  and  a  Regular  Fellow. 
Why  I  had  forgotten  there  were  girls  like  you  and  Miss  Crowell; 
and  after  all  you're  the  best  kind." 

"  I  don't  believe  that's  a  conviction,"  Southward  said  shrewdly, 
"  it's  just  a  passing  state  of  mind.  I  could  tell  better  though  by 
seeing  you  for  a  minute  or  two  with  those  Good  Indians." 

Cameron  laughed ;  there  was  a  little  embarrassment  in  his  mirth. 
"  Perhaps  you're  right,"  he  admitted. 

Southward  made  no  further  comment.  She  smiled  as  with  a 
secret  sense  of  triumph.  She  sat  up,  removed  her  feet  from  the 
chaise-longue  to  a  footstool,  folded  her  arms  by  a  process  of 
clutching  an  elbow  with  each  hand.  She  watched  him  intently 
while  he  studied  the  names  of  the  books  in  the  secretary. 

"  Now  I'm  going  to  get  your  number,"  he  announced,  in  a  tri 
umphant  tone.  He  read  across  one  shelf.  "  In  the  Forbidden 
Land,  Farthest  North,  In  Darkest  Africa,  The  Life-Story  of 
Isabel,  Lady  Burton,  Verne's  Journey  to  the  Centre  of  the  Earth, 
Gulliver,  Conrad,  Wells,  Henley.  Good  stuff  but  old  stuff!  All 
except  Conrad  and  Wells.  And  not  much  variety!  What  do  you 
like  best?" 

"  Travels  of  course,"  she  answered.  "  Even  if  I  hadn't  come 
from  sailor-stock,  I  think  I'd  like  travels  best.  For  you  see,  I 
can't  get  out  of  this  hole  myself;  so  I  go  by  proxy.  I've  read 
every  book  of  discovery,  exploration,  or  travel  in  the  Shayneford 
Library  and  we  have  a  pretty  good  little  Library  as  country 
libraries  go.  Then  after  that — well,  it  depends.  I  like  some 
fiction — if  it  has  action  enough.  For  years  when  I  was  a  child 
I  read  almost  nothing  but  boys'  books — dime  novels.  I  liked 
them  because  they  had  so  much  doing  in  them.  I  still  read  Jules 
Verne  over  and  over  again  and  H.  G.  Wells — those  early  fairy 
tales  of  his.  I  like  history  sometimes — or  rather  I  like  some 
history." 

Cameron  clapped  his  hand  to  his  pocket,  pulled  out  a  small 
brown  book.  "  I  brought  you  over  a  sample  of  the  world's  best 
literature."  He  threw  Ginger  on  the  table.  "  Read  it !  " 

"  All  right,"  said  Southward.    But  her  voice  was  unenthusiastic. 

"  And  tell  me  exactly  what  you  think,"  he  pleaded. 

"  Oh,  I'll  do  that,  all  right,"  Southward  promised  with  her 
mischievous  smile. 


102  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  I  really  want  the  truth." 

"  Oh,  you'll  get  it,"  Southward  assured  him.  "  I  don't  promise 
you  it;  I  threaten  you  with  it.  That's  my  specialty,  telling  the 
truth  to  men.  It'll  probably  bore  me.  Most  fiction  does.  That's 
the  worst  thing  I've  discovered  about  you — that  you  want  to 
write.  I  don't  believe  you're  a  real  writer  though." 

"You  don't!"  exclaimed  Cameron.  A  note  of  chagrin  lay  under 
the  mock  indignation  of  his  emphasis.  Then  he  laughed.  "  Gee, 

you're  a Well,  you  beggar  description.  Of  course  you  think 

writing  is  a  high-brow  occupation.  Go  on  though — you  were 
saying  you  liked  history  sometimes — or  some  history  always — I 
forget  your  subtle  distinctions." 

"  I  meant  I  liked  a  course  in  history  that  I  took  in  college.  It 
was  the  only  course  that  interested  me  enough ' 

Cameron  whirled  on  her  again  from  his  survey  of  the  books. 
"  I  didn't  know  that  you  were  a  college-girl,"  he  said  in  a  disap 
pointed  tone. 

"  I'm  not,"  Southward  promptly  reassured  him.  "  Or  not  en 
tirely  one.  It's  the  only  blot  on  an  otherwise  unblemished  career. 
I  thought  I  was  going  to  be  a  regular  college-girl.  And  I  did  go 
to  college  for  part  of  one  year.  But — well,  I  couldn't  stand  it." 

"Why?" 

"  Oh,  it  was  so  proper  and  correct  and  dull.  The  dormitory  life 
nearly  killed  me.  And  then  the  girls  themselves  were  so  silly 
and  giggly  and  girly.  As  for  the  instructors — well,  we  freshmen 
were  taught  mainly  by  boys.  I  knew  more  about  practical  things 
than  any  of  them  and  I  think  I  could  have  licked  one  or  two. 
They  had  thin  voices  with  English  accents.  One  of  them  wore 
a  monocle.  That  got  on  my  nerves  and  Heaven  only  knows  how 
much  I  must  have  shocked  them.  I  couldn't  stand  it.  I  quit  half 
way  through  the  second  term  of  the  first  year.  You  see,  here  I'm 
free.  I'm  my  own  boss.  I  ride  and  drive  all  I  want  to.  And 
work  in  the  garden.  Perhaps  it's  just  as  well  that  I  beat  it  when 
I  did.  I'd  have  had  to  come  home  anyway.  Grandmother  was 
taken  ill  immediately  afterwards,  a  stroke  of  paralysis.  There 
was  nobody  else  but  me." 

Southward  came  to  an  end.  There  was  a  little  pause  of  silence. 
Obviously  her  mind's  eye  was  on  the  past;  just  as  obviously  but 
with  an  odd  sense  of  perplexity,  Cameron's  was  on  the  present. 
"  You  were  saying  you  liked  history,"  he  interpolated  hastily,  as 
though  it  were  an  improvisation  to  cover  thoughts  that  were 
taking  another  tangent. 

"  Yes — some  of  it — war,  conquest,  bloodshed.     I  like  J.  Caesar 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  103 

pretty  well — he  was  quite  all  my  idea  of  a  man — and  N.  Bonaparte. 
I  can't  make  up  my  mind  though  which  was  the  bigger  crook." 

She  arose  as  she  spoke  and  came  over  to  the  table.  Her  quick, 
efficient  hands  tossed  the  paper,  magazines,  and  letters  this  way 
and  that  until  she  found  the  cigarettes  and  ash-trays. 

Cameron's  tangential  thoughts  had  evidently  focused  and  then 
broken  to  greater  confusion.  "  You  extraordinary  creature !  "  he 
said.  Then,  "  I  say !  where  did  you  get  that  thing  on  your  head  ?  " 

Southward  was  standing  in  the  light.  In  addition  to  her 
tomato-coloured  prince's  coat,  she  wore  a  high  Chinese  head-dress — 
a  conglomeration  of  many  coloured  silk  pompoms,  feathers, 
flowers,  streamers  of  silk  trimmed  with  mirrors.  Fringes  of  pearl 
hung  from  her  forehead  to  her  very  brows. 

"  Oh,  out  of  the  trunk  with  the  other  stuff,"  Southward  said 
indifferently.  "  I  put  it  on  for  your  benefit.  Have  a  cigarette  ? " 
She  held  out  the  open  box. 

"  Thanks."  Cameron  lifted  the  candle  over  to  her.  Southward 
lighted  her  cigarette.  He  lighted  his.  He  put  the  candle  down. 
His  movement  swept  the  papers  aside.  "  Lor-amighty !  "  he  ex 
claimed  lazily.  "  Where'd  that  article  come  from?  Is  it  loaded?" 

The  "  article "  was  Southward's  revolver.  "  From  the  West 
originally,"  Southward  answered  lazily,  "  Lysander  Manning  gave 
it  to  me.  Yes,  it's  loaded."  She  sent  a  file  of  smoke-rings 
twirling  through  the  space  that  lay  between  them. 

"  Well,  it  won't  be  any  longer."  Cameron  broke  the  revolver, 
dumped  the  cartridges  onto  the  table.  "  Double  action !  "  he  com 
mented,  "  that  isn't  horse-sense,  you've  no  business  to  do  that." 

"  Well,  you  see,"  Southward  explained,  "  I'm  really  not  quite 
so  rash  as  it  seems.  Nobody  ever  gets  up  here  but  Hester.  Grand 
mother  can't — she's  bedridden.  Grandfather  can't — it's  too  stiff 
a  climb  for  him.  And  Charlotte  can't — she's  blind.  Come  to  think 
of  it,  there  hasn't  been  a  soul  in  this  garret  since  I  fixed  it  up — 
except  you  and  Hester.  And  every  time  Hester  comes,  she  makes 
me  lock  the  gun  up." 

"  I  see,"  said  Cameron.  "  So  nobody's  ever  been  here  but  you 
girls.  It's  a  secret  place.  That's  lovely.  It  adds  to  the  con 
notation  enormously."  His  mind  reverted.  "  How'd  you  ever 
happen  to  want  a  revolver?  You  surely  don't  need  one  in  this 
dopy  little  town." 

"  No,  not  generally.  But  once  a  man  threatened  to  kill  me.  I 
got  the  revolver  then.  I  carried  it  wherever  I  went — for  six 
months.  Then  the  embargo  lifted." 

"What  lifted  it?" 


104  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  He  married  another  girl,"  Southward  said  with  her  blue-and- 
black  glimmer. 

"  I  see.    Desperate,  wasn't  he  ?  " 

"  I  had  always  thought  it  would  be  very  exciting  to  be  in  peril 

of  your  life,"  Southward  remarked.  "  On  the  contrary One 

of  the  things  that  cured  him  was  that  occasionally  I  used  to  ask 
him  to  shoot  me  rather  than  bore  me  to  death.  My  eye,  I  was 
glad  when  he  fell  in  love  with  that  girl." 

"  Did  it  surprise  you  ?    Wasn't  it  a  sort  of  shock  ?  " 

"  No,"  Southward  answered  promptly.  "  I  imported  her  for  the 
purpose." 

Cameron  laughed  immoderately.  "  Poor  devil !  "  he  said.  But 
there  was  no  pity  in  his  voice,  only  contemptuous  patronage.  "  It 
must  be  pretty  tough  for  these  country  bumpkins  to  fall  in  love 
with  you, — it's  the  moth-and-the-flame  proposition  all  right.  And 
they  can't  help  it  of  course.  You're  simply  too  pretty  for  any 
use.  By  Jove,  it's  unfair."  The  banter  went  out  of  his  voice; 
his  tone  became  business-like.  "  Oh,  say — one  thing — did  you 
ever  have  to  use  the  gun  on  that  fellow  ? " 

Southward's  expression  changed.    She  hesitated. 

Cameron's  look  turned  keen — the  look  of  the  hunter  who  has 
found  his  prey. 

"  No."  Southward  became  impassive  again.  "  He  was  the 
kind  who  didn't  mean  it.  You  know  probably  that  people  who 
threaten  are  divided  into  two  classes — the  people  who  mean  it  and 
the  people  who  think  they  do.  He  wouldn't — he  couldn't  go 
through  with  it.  I  realised  that.  But  it  was  some  time  after  I'd 
bought  the  revolver  before  I  realised  it,  and  I  continued  to  carry 
it.  I  liked  it." 

The  hunter's  look  melted  from  Cameron's  eyes  as  he  listened. 
The  banter  came  back.  "  This  ought  to  be  a  lesson  to  me,"  he 
said.  "  Eemember  I  told  you  the  other  night  that  whatever  you 
do,  you  were  not  to  let  me  fall  in  love  with  you." 

"Didn't  I  give  you  my  word  of  honour  that  I  wouldn't  do  a 
thing  in  that  direction  ?  "  Southward's  eyes  emitted  another  blue- 
and-black  gleam  at  her  slangy  double  entendre.  "  I  thought  I  was 
taking  the  best  of  care  of  you." 

"  You  are — damn  you !  "  Cameron  laughed  a  little.  He  sat 
down,  crossed  his  knees,  clasped  his  hands  over  them.  "  But 
suppose  I  do  fall  in  love  with  you  in  spite  of  yourself  and 
myself?" 

"  I'm  afraid  that's  your  look-out,"  Southward  said  placidly. 
"  I'm  not  a  marrying  young  woman  at  all.  .  I  don't  want 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  105 

to  marry,  but  I  like  to  flirt.  You  take  care  of  yourself  and  I'll 
take  care  of  myself.  A  man  doesn't  interest  me  at  all  after  I've 
got  him  going.  Now  we're  off." 

"  You  say  that  as  though  you'd  said  it  many  times  before.  You 
know  there's  nothing  on  earth  that  would  so  enchant  a  man," 
Cameron  commented.  "  You  man-eater !  " 

Southward's  eyes  filled  with  her  mischievous  smile.  "  Well, 
please  remember  no  man  could  possibly  loathe  and  dread  the 
thought  of  matrimony  as  much  as  I  do.  For  no  matter  how  bad 
it  is  for  a  man,  it  is  infinitely  worse  for  a  woman.  Marriage  is 
my  idea  of  solitary  confinement  for  life.  But  then  again,"  and 
now  Southward's  lids  fell  over  the  mirth  in  her  eyes;  the  light 
of  that  mirth  seemed  almost  to  shine  through  them.  "  If  you 
must  fall  in  love  with  somebody,  you  could  hardly  do  better  than 
to  fall  in  love  with  me.  For  I  wouldn't  marry  you  or  any  other 
man  I've  ever  heard  of — with  the  exception  of  royalty.  And  I'll 
put  that  in  writing  if  you  require  it." 

Cameron  smiled  but  not  with  his  former  enthusiasm.  "  Why 
this  prejudice  in  favour  of  royalty?"  he  queried. 

"  I  rather  think  I'd  like  a  queen's  job,"  Southward  said.  "  I 
like  power.  I  like  to  run  things." 

"  How  about  an  American  multi-millionaire.  Wouldn't  he  offer 
you  power  enough  ?  " 

"  Not  unless  he  bought  me  a  kingdom  somewhere.  No,  matri 
mony  is  not  for  me." 

"  Nor  lovers,"  Cameron  suggested.  He  was  serious  now.  The 
analytic  look  had  returned  to  his  eyes. 

"  Ah,  that's  different  altogether,"  Southward  said.  "  No,  I  don't 
care  how  many  lovers  I  have.  I  don't  mind  confessing  to  you — 
as  one  as  equally  intent  on  evading  matrimony  as  I — that  I  like 
lovers.  I  feel  a  little  uncomfortable  if  there  isn't  something  of 
the  sort.  It  keeps  me  jollied  up.  It  gives  a  sort  of  excitement 
to  life.  I  suppose  the  root  of  it  is  that,  although  I  don't  want 
to  marry,  I  like  to  think  that  I  can.  That's  rather  cheap,  isn't 
it?"  She  turned  on  him  suddenly  with  one  of  her  engaging  self- 
accusals.  "  And  so,  although  I'm  perfectly  fair  with  men,  I  don't 
drive  them  from  my  presence — or  anything  like  it.  Have  an 
other?" 

"  Thanks,  I  will."  Cameron  came  over  to  her  side  on  the  chaise- 
longue.  He  accepted  the  cigarette  which  she  offered  but  he 
rejected  the  match  which  she  lighted  with  a  rasp  of  her  finger-nail 
across  the  phosphorus.  He  leaned  coolly  over  and  secured  a  light 
from  her  own  cigarette.  It  was  a  sudden  movement  and  brought 


106  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

their  faces  close.  Southward  did  not  stir;  she  did  not  even  wink. 
And  when,  the  end  glowing,  he  withdrew  his  cigarette,  she  emitted 
a  tranquil  flood  of  smoke-rings. 

"  Would  you  like  to  come  to  New  York  ? "  he  asked  suddenly. 

"Would  a  duck  swim?"  was  Southward's  answer. 

"  What  really  keeps  you  here  ?  " 

"  Well,  in  a  manner  of  speaking — nothing.  But  in  another 
manner  of  speaking — everything.  They're  all  so  helpless — grand 
mother,  grandfather,  and  even  Charlotte,  who's  my  especial  re 
sponsibility.  I'd  feel  like  an  awful  mucker  to  go  off  and  leave 
them." 

"  Couldn't  you  put  some  responsible  person  in  charge  ? " 

"  Nothing  short  of  a  trained  nurse,"  Southward  answered.  "  And 
even  that  would  be  hardly  fair — besides  being  too  expensive.  My 
conscience — I  have  plenty  of  conscience  as  far  as  they  are  con 
cerned — would  bother  me.'' 

Cameron  considered  the  end  of  his  cigarette,  scowling.  "  But 
you  could  come  in  the  winter  for  an  occasional  few  days'  visit, 
couldn't  you  ? " 

"  I  could  manage  that,"  Southward  said.    "  In  fact  I  did  once." 

"  All  right,"  Cameron  concluded.  "  Then  you're  coming  to  New 
York  next  winter.  I'll  rip  the  town  open  from  Grant's  Tomb  to 
the  Battery.  I  promise  to  show  you  what  makes  it  tick." 

Southward's  eyes  flared  but  her  voice  was  calm  enough.  "  My 
answer  is  yes." 

"  New  York  really  is  a  wonderful  city,"  Cameron  went  on.  "  I'd 
like  to  show  you  some  places  that —  '  He  came  to  the  end  of  his 
cigarette  and  lighted  another,  at  the  candle  this  time.  And  sud 
denly  his  mood  changed.  The  reporter-look,  swift,  deep,  acute, 
left  his  eyes.  With  it  disappeared  his  air  of  analytic  examination. 
Eather  slowly  at  first  and  a  little  dreamily,  he  began  to  talk  about 
New  York.  He  gave  her  his  first  impression,  the  sneering, 
jeering  article  that,  on  the  very  day  of  his  arrival,  he  had  written 
and  sold  all  in  one  day  to  a  magazine.  Then  he  described  the 
change  in  his  attitude,  the  growth  of  a  fascinated  interest,  a 
real  affection.  He  had  the  reporter's  conciseness  of  narrative, 
crispness  of  phrase,  articulateness.  Southward  made  no  com 
ment.  She  did  not  speak.  She  scarcely  seemed  to  breathe.  Then 
lapsing  by  an  imperceptible  hiatus  from  general  statements  to 
concrete  facts,  he  began  to  retail  rarious  adventures.  He  had 
brake-beamed  his  way  across  the  continent;  he  had  worked  his 
passage  on  a  cattle-ship  across  the  ocean.  He  had  lived  in  Mexico. 
There  tumbled  from  his  lips  a  jumble  of  wild  experiences — San 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  107 

Francisco,  Chicago,  New  York,  Paris,  all  shot  with  side-lights 
from  his  assignments. 

Southward  made  no  comment. 

Then  suddenly  he  appeared  to  run  down.  "  I  seem  to  have 
spilled  it  all  out,"  he  commented,  smiling  in  rather  a  shamefaced 
way. 

Southward's  only  answer  was  a  sigh.  She  sat  staring  ahead,  lost 
to  the  present.  Cameron  stared  ahead  too — but  it  was  as  though  he 
was  trying  to  remember  something.  Suddenly  the  look  of  the 
hunter  came  back  to  his  eyes. 

"  Oh,  tell  me,"  he  demanded.  "  I  asked  you  before  but  you 
switched  off  onto  something.  Have  you  ever  used  the  gun  on 
anybody  ? " 

Southward  hesitated. 

"  Oh,  tell  me  about  it,"  he  wheedled,  "  I  know  it  wasn't  that 
idiot." 

"  No,"  Southward  said.  "  It  wasn't."  She  meditated  coolly  for 
a  moment.  "  I  will  tell  you  about  it,  I  think.  You'll  be  the  only 
person  who  knows.  And  I'd  like  to  have  an  outside  opinion. 
Especially  if  it  was  worth  something.  It  happened  that  time — 
the  only  time — I  went  over  to  New  York." 

"  Go  on,"  Cameron  encouraged  her. 

"  I  had  been  carrying  the  gun  about  with  me  for  a  year  and 
so  I  took  it  with  me." 

"  How'd  you  carry  it  ? " 

"  They  were  wearing  waists  and  skirts  then.  I  made  an  amateur 
holster  where  my  waist  hung  full  in  front.  I  don't  realise  to  this 
day  how  nobody  ever  saw  it,  but  apparently  nobody  ever  did.  I 
had  no  idea  I'd  use  it  in  New  York,  of  course.  Still  I  was  going 
to  be  alone  there.  The  family  didn't  know  where  I  was.  They 
thought  I  was  in  Boston.  The  only  person  I  told  was  Lysander 
Manning.  Well,  I  stayed  at  a  place  that  had  been  recommended 
to  me — a  semi-charitable  institution  which  charges  women  who 
are  strangers  in  the  city  a  merely  nominal  price  for  rooms — the 
Susannah  Retreat." 

Cameron  nodded.    "  I  know  all  about  that.    Go  on !  " 

"  They  had  only  one  bed  left  when  I  got  there.  That  was  in 
the  room  with  another  woman.  I  didn't  mind  that.  She  was  a 
Mrs.  Reynolds.  I  didn't  pay  any  attention  to  her  at  first — she 
made  no  impression  on  me.  But  inevitably  of  course  you  get  to 
know  the  woman  who's  your  room-mate.  And  she  made  so  many 
advances  and  such  kind  ones  that  it  would  have  been  hard  to 
ignore  them.  She  dressed  well.  She  seemed  to  have  a  lot  of  money 


106  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

and  she  knew  all  about  New  York.  She  offered  to  take  me  about 
the  shops  and  she  said  she  could  get  free  tickets  at  some  of  the 
theatres.  I  wanted  to  go — and  we  went  to  see  Forbes-Kobertson 
in  Hamlet.  She  paid  for  those  tickets,  it  happened — two  dollars 
and  a  half  apiece.  And  in  view  of  subsequent  developments," 
Southward's  eyes  glimmered,  "  it  has  always  been  a  matter  of 
satisfaction  to  me  that  I  made  her  sit  through  Hamlet.  I  realised 
afterwards  how,  in  the  cleverest  way  in  the  world,  she  had  learned 
all  about  me.  Her  system  was  to  pretend  timidity — she  was  as 
timid  as  a  mouse  about  everything.  So  naturally,  to  prove  what 
my  courage  was  like,  I  told  her  that  I  was  all  alone  in  New  York 
and  with  no  friends  in  the  city  and  that  my  people — I  threw 
this  out  one  day  in  the  spirit  of  bravado — did  not  know  where 
I  was.  I  even  lied  a  little,  I  said  nobody  knew  where  I  was.  She 
affected  to  be  much  concerned  about  that;  urged  me  to  write  my 
family;  threatened  to  write  them  herself.  Of  course  she  didn't 
do  that.  Nor  did  I.  All  the  time,  she  was  complimenting  me  on 
my  courage,  my  wonderful,  my  amazing,  my  extraordinary  courage. 
Did  I  fall  for  it?  You  should  have  seen  me.  I  ate  it  up.  And  I 
continued  to  brag.  She  told  me  a  good  deal  about  herself.  She 
had  been  away  for  July  and  was  now  getting  her  house  ready 
to  live  in — a  house  in  the  forties  somewhere.  She  telephoned 
constantly  from  our  room  to  the  servants  who  were  putting  it 
in  order  and  gave  the  most  convincing  directions  to  them.  She 
was  so  easily  frightened  that  she  did  not  like  to  go  to  a  hotel. 
That  was  why  she  came  to  the  Susannah.  She  felt  perfectly  safe 
there." 

"  What  did  she  look  like  ?  "  Cameron  asked. 

"  Tall — exceedingly  thin — not  striking-looking  at  all — yellow 
hair  a  natural  colour — blue  eyes — rather  strange  eyes — they  re 
minded  me  of  the  eyes  of  the  only  spiritualistic  medium  I've  ever 
seen  in  my  life.  She  had  a  good  deal  of  style,  but  she  dressed 
quietly — no  make-up  of  any  description." 

"Did  you  like  her?" 

"  Yes  and  no.  I  liked  the  way  she  had  of  seeming  to  mind  her 
own  business.  Then  she  was  a  good  fellow.  And  all  that  sort  of 
thing.  She  could  talk  about  anything.  She'd  travelled  quite  a 
bit  apparently.  And  she  knew  New  York — every  hole  and  corner 
of  it — especially  about  the  stage — actors  and  actresses — the  society 
people  whose  pictures  you  see  in  the  paper — she  told  me  reams 
of  gossip  about  them.  She  pointed  some  of  them  out  on  the 
street  and  of  course  that  interested  me  a  lot.  Still  afterwards  I 
realised  that  back  in  my  mind  there  was  always  a  question.  I  didn't 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  109 

entirely  like  her.  I  didn't  wholly  trust  her.  But  it  was  so  vague 
and  weak — that  feeling — that  I  really  was  not  conscious  of  it.  I 
don't  know  what  it  was  exactly — as  if  there  was  a  wall  I  had  never 
scaled.  But  I  was  enormously  entertained  and  exceedingly  flat 
tered.  She  took  no  notice  of  anybody  else  at  the  Susannah 

Still  that  feeling " 

Southward  stopped  and  knit  her  brows.  With  eyes  downcast 
and  one  hand  rumpling  her  hair,  she  considered  this  psychological 
problem.  "  I'm  not  very  intuitive,"  she  remarked. 

"  Please  go  on,"  Cameron  urged  her. 

"  Well,  one  day  she  said  that  her  house  was  all  ready  and 
suggested  that  I  go  up  and  see  it.  I  said  I  would.  It  was  the 
day  I  was  leaving.  I  had  my  suit-case,  all  packed,  intending  to 
go  from  her  house  to  the  train.  I  was  delighted  to  do  this;  for 
of  course  I  hadn't  seen  the  inside  of  a  New  York  house.  It  was 
an  awful  day.  You  know  that  wilting  New  York  heat " 

Cameron  nodded. 

"  After  we'd  walked  a  bit,  she  began  to  get  faint  and  suggested 
a  taxi.  I  signalled  to  one ;  we  got  in.  She  leaned  back,  closed 
her  eyes.  She  had  smelling-salts  and  things  and  I  had  to  fuss 
over  her  so  long  that  I  didn't  notice  how  we  went  or  where  we 
went.  In  fact  I  paid  no  attention  to  anything  but  her.  When 
we  got  out,  I  didn't  even  know  what  street  it  was  or  whether  it  was 
east  or  west.  All  I  got  was  a  long  block  of  brownstone  houses, 
as  alike  as  peas  in  a  pod,  and  exactly  like  another  long  block 
opposite.  It  never  occurred  to  me  of  course  to  look  at  the  number. 
All  I  can  recall  is  that  the  curtains  were  down  all  over  the  house. 
I  had  to  help  her  up  the  front  steps.  There  were  two  doors,  a 
vestibule  between.  She  gave  me  her  keys  and  I  opened  both  doors. 
I  stepped  into  the  hall,  helping  her  all  the  time.  She  shut  the 
door  and  recovered  from  her  faintness,"  Southward  emitted  a 
quick  crisp  snap  from  between  her  thumb  and  middle  finger,  "  like 
that!  It  came  to  me  where  I  was — in  an  instant." 

"  God !  "  Cameron  whispered  this.  And  then  in  a  normal  tone. 
"  What  put  you  wise  ? " 

"I  don't  know,"  Southward  answered  directly.  "I  didn't  know 
then  and  I  don't  know  now.  I  saw  only  the  hall  and  part  of  one 
big  long  room  red  and  gold.  It  all  looked  very  gorgeous  to  a 
country-girl  like  me.  No,  I  don't  know  how  I  knew.  But  I  did. 
Perhaps  it  was  the  pictures.  They  were  far  from  restrained  in 
character — and  rather  vulgarly  executed.  I  turned  to  her.  Her 
hand  was  still  on  the  knob.  She  looked  at  me  and  I  looked  at 
her  and  we  understood  each  other  in  an  instant.  '  I  guess  I'll 


110  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

go/  I  said.  '  I  guess  you  won't,'  she  answered.  And  oh,  Lord, 
the  difference  in  her!  Those  vague  dull  eyes  of  hers  were  like 
stones.  And  her  face  had  changed  so.  It  wasn't  human  really — 
not  excited,  you  understand,  but  just  hard  like  a  rock.  The 
strange  thing  about  it  was  that  we  talked  in  whispers,  although 
the  house  seemed  as  quiet  as  a  tomb.  It  was  all  over  in  a  moment 
though.  I  can  remember  every  word.  Next  I  said,  '  Open  the 
door  or  I'll  make  you.'  Then  she  said,  '  The  hell  you  will !  How 
are  you  going  to  make  me  ? '  Just  then  I  heard  footsteps.  I 
turned.  A  man  was  coming  up  the  stairs  from  the  basement, 
just  turning  into  the  hall.  He  was  little  and  thin  and  dark — and 
he  had  a  look — well,  as  if  he'd  been  put  in  an  oven  and  baked. 
I  noticed  that  his  hair  was  very  smooth — oiled — that  his  tie  and 
handkerchief  and  stockings  were  all  the  same  shade  of  lavender. 
His  eyes  glittered  and  yet  they  were  as  hard  as  hers.  I  don't 
know  how  to  express  it  but  he  had  a  kind  of  attractiveness.  He 
looked  strong  too;  he  had  the  quality  of  steel  that  I  like  in  people. 
He  came  straight  towards  me  as  though  he  was  expecting  me. 
'  She's  a  peach  all  right,'  he  said  in  the  most  business-like  way  as 
though  I  was  a  horse.  '  I'll  manage  her,  Myrtle.  You  hold  the 
door.'  I  put  my  hand  into  my  waist  and  pulled  out  the  gun. 
'  Stand  where  you  are,'  I  said.  I  have  to  hand  it  to  him;  he  had 
his  courage  with  him.  He  kept  right  on  coming.  '  She  won't 
shoot,'  he  said  in  a  perfectly  calm  voice  to  Myrtle.  And  in  fact, 
for  an  instant,  I  almost  didn't.  That  absolute  assurance  of  his 
hypnotised  me.  I  respect  that  man  when  I  think  of  him.  I  hate 
him,  but  I  respect  him.  Perhaps  I  wouldn't  have  shot — if  Myrtle 
hadn't  reached  over  my  shoulder  and  tried  to  grab  the  gun.  Then 
something  inside  me  exploded — the  Drake  temper  all  right.  I  felt 
on  fire  with  rage.  I  pulled  the  trigger.  He  dropped  in  the  queerest 
kind  of  way.  You  know  how  they  do  it  in  the  moving-pictures, 
face  forward,  arms  outstretched,  after  a  melodramatic  spasm.  He 
didn't  do  it  that  way.  He  didn't  fall  at  all.  He  just  crumpled 
in  a  leisurely  sort  of  way,  twisted  and  sank  in  a  huddle  that 
looked  more  like  a  bundle  of  clothes  than  anything.  Then  I 
turned  the  gun  on  her !  '  Open  the  door,  Myrtle ! '  I  said.  '  You 
damned  boob ! '  she  answered — we  still  talked  in  whispers  and 
that  pistol-shot  hadn't  produced  a  sound  in  the  house — '  if  you've 
killed  him,  I'll  cut  your  heart  out.'  But  she  opened  the  door  and 
I  went  out.  I  searched  the  papers  for  days  and  days  but  I  never 
saw  one  word  about  it.  To  this  day,  I  don't  know  whether  I 
killed  him  or  not."  Her  face  changed  as  she  contemplated  a 
mental  picture.  "  Sometimes  I'm  awfully  afraid  I  didn't." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  111 

Cameron  sighed.  "  What  a  story !  "  he  said.  "  What  a  story !  " 
Then  in  a  purely  professional  tone :  "  What  did  you  do  immediately 
afterwards  ? " 

"  I  walked  over  to  Broadway  and  bought  a  comb  and  a  tooth 
brush.  Everything  I  had  was  in  my  suit-case.  And  that  was  in 
the  taxi  and  the  taxi  had  disappeared  when  I  got  out.  I  went 
right  over  to  the  Grand  Central,  and  came  over  to 
Boston  on  the  ten  o'clock  limited.  Shayneford  looked  pretty  good 
to  me  for  nearly  three  months.  It's  the  only  time  it  ever  has 
looked  good  to  me." 

"  Didn't  it  leave  any  other  trace — that  experience  ?  "  Cameron 
asked. 

"  I  had  dreams  for  a  while,"  Southward  answered  briefly. 
"  Every  night — hundreds  of  them — they  were  pretty  bad." 

"  Love  of  Mike !  "  Cameron  sighed  again,  "  what  a  story !  If 
you  read  it  in  a  book — say,"  his  look  became  analytic  again.  "  Do 
you  know  when  you  said  you  were  afraid  you  hadn't  killed  him, 
you  had  a  fighting  face — just  like  a  pug?  It  made  a  different 
person  of  you." 

"  Well,  you  see,"  Southward  said  tranquilly,  "  that  I  tell  you 
the  truth  when  I  inform  you  that  I  have  the  Drake  temper. 
And  now,  my  dear  young  friend,  it's  eleven  o'clock.  I'll  have  to 
turn  you  out." 

"  All  right."  Cameron  agreed.     "  What  a  story !  " 

Southward  lighted  him  down  the  stairs,  accompanied  him  to  the 
jetty  where  his  boat  lay. 


CHAPTER  IV 

THE  tea-table  was  set  under  the  big  horse-chestnut  tree.  Hester 
stood  off  a  little  way  and  studied  the  effect  of  the  old  white 
hexagonal  china  with  the  prim  bunches  of  purple-lustre  flowers, 
the  big,  low  pewter  bowl  massed  deep  with  nasturtiums,  the  thin, 
shining,  dented  spoons.  A  pleased  look  came  into  her  face  as 
though  she  saw  these  commonplaces  of  her  home  in  a  new  aspect; 
and  her  pleasure  brought  a  little  colour  to  her  cheeks,  a  gleam  in 
her  eyes.  She  stood  for  an  instant  contemplating  them. 

"  I  never  saw  anything  so  foolish  in  my  life." 

Hester  started  violently.  Her  mother  had  come  noiselessly  across 
the  grass,  was  standing  by  her  side. 

"  Having  teas  out  here  with  all  the  flies  and  mosquitoes,"  Mrs. 
Crowell  continued  in  a  caustic  voice.  "  It  would  be  much  nicer 
in  the  dining-room,  with  the  table  all  set  up  pretty." 

Mrs.  Crowell  spoke,  in  spite  of  her  causticity,  in  what  was  for 
her  a  preoccupied  manner.  There  was  an  abnormal  air  of  excite 
ment  about  her.  Something  smouldered  behind  the  apathetic  grey 
of  her  eyes.  Her  lips,  pulling  more  tautly  than  usual  over  her 
glistening  white  teeth,  were  a  brilliant  scarlet. 

"  But  it's  so  much  prettier  out  of  doors,  mother.  And  both 
Mr.  Smith  and  Mr.  Cameron  enjoy  it  so  much.  You  see  they 
live  in  the  city  most  of  the  time.  The  reason  they're  camping 
out  is  because  they  want  to  be  in  the  open  as  much  as  possible." 

"Is  that  Mr.  Smith  waiting  on  you?" 

"Mother!    Of  course  not." 

"I  just  asked.  Mary  Meade  said  yesterday  that  Sarah  Wallis 
told  her  she  wondered  if  you'd  get  him." 

"Well — you  can  tell  Mary  that  I — that  I'm  not  trying  to  get 
him.  But  there,  don't  say  anything;  they  won't  believe  that." 

"  No,"  her  mother  repeated  softly,  "  they  won't  believe  that." 

She  looked  at  her  daughter  critically.  Then  she  sighed  with 
impatience.  "  For  goodness'  sake,  do  go  and  do  your  hair  over 
again.  It  looks  as  though  you'd  combed  it  with  a  pitchfork.  I 
never  did  see  anybody  so  careless  as  you  are,  Hester,  about  your 
personal  appearance.  If  you  were  a  beauty,  you  could  afford  to 
be  that  way.  But  seeing  you're  far  from  that,  I'd  try  to  look 
neat  at  least." 

112 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  113 

Hester  bit  her  lips.  "  All  right,  mother.  I'll  do  it  again."  She 
went  slowly  to  her  room,  stood  for  an  instant,  looking  at  herself 
in  the  glass.  Apparently  she  had  made  some  effort  to  soften  her 
hair  about  her  face;  it  waved  in  loose  tendrils  on  her  forehead. 
But  one  by  one,  she  pulled  out  her  long  silver  hairpins,  plastered 
her  hair  down  flat  with  her  comb,  rewound  her  braid. 

"  How  does  it  look  now,  mother  ? "  she  asked  when  she  came 
downstairs. 

Her  mother's  glance  just  grazed  her.  "  Well,  it'll  do,"  she 
admitted.  "  But  that's  about  all.  It's  curious  how  unlucky  you 
are,  Hester.  The  only  thing  you  have  got  that's  pretty,  you're 
got  altogether  too  much  of.  Now  all  that  hair  doesn't  do  you 
a  bit  of  good,  especially  as  you  haven't  the  slightest  knack  in 
putting  it  up.  Beyond  a  certain  amount,  hair  isn't  pretty — it's 
homely.  I  wish  you'd  watch  how  other  women  do  their  hair  and 
copy  them." 

"  I'll  try  to  remember,  mother."  Hester's  eyes  had  slowly 
emptied  of  their  light;  as  slowly  her  cheeks  had  drained  of 
their  colour.  All  the  hollows  and  shadows  in  her  contours 
seemed  to  start  into  prominence;  her  profile  showed  bleak. 
"  Somehow,"  she  added  listlessly,  "  I  almost  wish  they  weren't 
coming." 

"  Well,  you  would  have  them,"  Mrs.  Crowell  said.  "  I  told  you 
you  didn't  know  how  to  entertain  folks.  Perhaps  the  next  time, 
you'll  be  guided  by  my  advice.  You  never  talk,  you  know.  Well, 
thank  heavens,  Southward  can.  You  can  be  sure  she'll  wear  the 

right  clothes  and  do  her  hair  the  most  becoming  way.  She's 

There!  Here  they  are  now!  Lord,  doesn't  Southward  look 
pretty?" 

Southward  did,  it  happened,  present  every  possible  contrast  to 
Hester  as,  laughing  and  talking,  she  came  through  the  orchard 
between  the  two  men.  The  sun  was  pouring  through  the  trees 
.onto  them;  but  it  brought  with  it,  like  drift  on  a  current,  the 
shadows  of  the  leaves.  It  was  as  though  she  walked  under  a 
perpetual  cataract  which  moved  with  her — a  cataract  in  which 
golden  light,  honey-thick,  joined  with  steely  shadow  sharply- 
edged.  The  shadow  could  not  dim  the  brilliant  blue  gleams  in 
her  dark  eyes;  nor  could  the  sunshine  find  a  flaw  in  the  metallic 
lustre  of  her  brown  skin. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Crowell,"  she  said  pleasantly,  and  while 
Hester  greeted  the  two  men,  she  stood  laughing  and  talking.  Mrs. 
Crowell  looked  at  her  with  that  reluctant  enjoyment  with  which 
middle-aged  women  often  viewed  Southward's  beauty — an  enjoy- 


114  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

ment  subconsciously  fought  against,  but  almost  pagan  in  its 
intensity. 

Hester  introduced  Cameron  and  Smith  to  her  mother.  They 
sat  down  at  the  little  table  and  Hester  served  tea.  As  an  after 
thought,  apparently,  she  went  into  the  house  and  returned,  Tabby 
trailing  her,  with  the  basket  of  kittens.  She  set  the  four  woolly 
puffs  of  down  on  the  grass.  For  a  while,  the  party  entertained 
themselves  by  watching  the  little  half-blind,  squeaking  creatures 
drag  their  straight-pointed  tails  over  the  grass  in  a  futile  effort 
to  find  their  mother.  Tabby  took  herself  off  for  a  little  distance 
and  lay  luxuriously  unencumbered,  stretching  her  long  lean  body 
and  sharpening  her  claws  on  a  tree-trunk.  After  an  interval,  she 
consented  to  rejoin  her  offspring  and  settled  philosophically  down 
to  their  frantic  pulling  at  her  nipples. 

Mrs.  Crowell  went  into  the  house  and  returned  with  the  afghan 
that  she  was  knitting.  Silent,  heavy,  her  eyelids  down,  she  might 
have  been  a  wax  figure  but  for  the  constant  interweaving  of  her 
fingers.  Occasionally  her  glance  came  up,  surveyed  the  group 
playing  with  the  kittens;  it  stayed  longest  on  Smith.  He  turned 
to  her  after  a  while. 

"  I'm  quite  in  love  with  Shaynef ord,  Mrs.  Crowell,"  he  remarked. 
"  Have  you  always  lived  here  ?  " 

"  You  might  almost  say  I  had,"  Mrs.  Crowell  replied.  "  I  was 
brought  up  in  Boston,  but  I  used  to  come  here  every  summer 
when  I  was  a  child.  I  was  twenty  when  I  married  Mr.  Crowell. 
He'd  always  lived  here  and  I've  lived  here  ever  since." 

"  I  suppose  you  love  Shaynef  ord  then,"  Smith  ventured. 

Mrs.  Crowell  did  not  raise  her  voice  or  her  eyes.  "  I  hate  it," 
she  said. 

Smith  made  no  comment  for  an  instant.  And  in  that  instant 
his  eyes  went  to  Hester,  listening  dully  to  a  spirited  contest  of 
wits  between  Southward  and  Cameron,  came  back  to  her  mother's 
stony  mask.  "  Is  it  Shaynef  ord,"  he  said,  "  or  because  you  don't 
like  the  country  ?  " 

"  Both,"  Mrs.  Crowell  answered  evenly.  "  I  despise  Shayneford. 
But  I  don't  like  the  country  and  I  don't  like  country-life.  And 
I  don't  like  country-folks.  They  don't  like  me.  Everybody  in 
this  town  hates  me  and  I'm  sure  I  return  their  feeling  with 
interest.  I  love  the  city  and  city-life — noise,  folks  passing,  some 
thing  to  do  any  time  you  want  to  do  it,  music  and  the  theatre. 
At  least,  I  used  to  care  once.  I  don't  think  much  of  it  now.  I'm 
too  old  to  care  for  anything." 

"  What  a  life !  "  Smith  commented.    "  How  many  years  ? " 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  115 

"  Thirty !  "  Mrs.  Crowell  answered. 

"  Gee  whiz ! "  Smith  murmured,  "  why  don't  you  go  to  the 
city  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  care  any  more,"  Mrs.  Crowell  reiterated,  "  I  want 
to  die  here.  I'm  too  old  to  care." 

"  We're  never  too  old  to  care,"  Smith  said.  "  In  fact,  I  think 
the  older  we  get,  the  more  we  care."  His  quick  glance  went  to  her 
moveless,  sphynx-like  face  as  though  for  sympathy.  None  came; 
she  did  not  lift  her  eyelids.  "  Do  you  like  to  meet  city-people, 
Mrs.  Crowell?" 

"  I  don't  know  that  I  care  particularly  one  way  or  the  other," 
Mrs.  Crowell  replied  in  her  dead  tone. 

"  I  was  going  to  say  that  if  you  did,  we  could  offer  you  some." 
He  turned  to  include  Southward  and  Hester  in  his  announcement. 
"  Our  party  is  going  to  be  increased  by  five  to-morrow — three 
women  and  two  men." 

For  an  instant,  nobody  spoke.  And  in  that  instant,  Southward, 
who  was  facing  the  road,  bowed  and  smiled.  Involuntarily,  the 
others  turned.  Pearl  Wallis — very  slim  and  pretty,  in  a  pink 
muslin — was  walking  towards  the  beach  with  Lysander  Manning. 
Manning's  impersonal  glance,  following  his  bow,  ran  through  the 
group  on  the  lawn  without  a  change  of  expression,  but  Pearl's 
gaze,  obviously  curious,  seemed  to  catch  on  every  detail.  Under 
cover  of  this  diversion,  Mrs.  Crowell  shot  two  quick  looks  across 
the  table,  one  at  her  daughter,  another  at  Smith.  "  Tell  us  about 
them,"  Southward  commanded  idly. 

"  The  men  are  Morena  O'Eeilly  and  Ripley  Fearing  who  are 
returning  from  their  tramp  down  the  Cape.  The  women  are  New 
York  friends  of  ours,  one  Mrs.  Boardman,  two,  her  daughter,  Mrs. 
Morrow,  three,  Miss  Edith  Hale.  Mrs.  Boardman  is  elderly, 
she  deals  in  antiques,  and  every  year  she  goes  to  Europe  on  a 
collecting  tour — rather  handsome.  Her  daughter — we  often  call 
her  '  The  Princess ' — is  a  picturesque  person,  running  over  with 
life,  clever,  diabolically  clever.  She's  a  widow.  Her  husband 
was  a  great  traveller  and  she's  lived  all  over  the  world.  Miss 
Hale  is  young,  too,  not  so  full  of  vitality  as  Mrs.  Morrow,  quiet, 
rery  attractive  though.  I  think  you'll  like  them  all." 

Over  Southward's  brilliant  eyes  there  had  dropped  a  curtain 
of  reserve.  Now  her  lids  fell  over  that  wary  film.  "  Tell  us  about 
the  men,"  she  said  lazily  to  Dwight. 

"  Morena  O'Reilly  is  almost  as  picturesque  as  Mrs.  Morrow," 
Dwight  answered.  "  Half  Dogan  and  half  Spanish.  War-corre 
spondent.  We  call  him  '  the  Mick '  some  of  the  time  and  '  the 


116  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Bull-fighter '  the  rest.  He's  lived  everywhere  and  written  about 
it.  Mrs.  Morrow  picked  him  up  somewhere  in  her  travels,  got 
him  to  come  to  New  York.  Handsome  beggar!  Not  too  hand 
some  though.  Some  athlete,  believe  me.  Fearing's  the  best  fellow 
on  earth." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  remember,"  Southward  interpolated,  "  a  reformer." 

"  That's  the  way  I  felt  about  it  at  first,"  Dwight  reassured  her. 
"  But  he's  a  Eegular  Fellow  in  every  sense  of  the  word — keeps 
his  deadly  occupation  a  dark  secret.  I'm  strong  for  Kip.  You'll 
like  him." 

"  Rip's  a  big  person,"  John  struck  in  vigorously.  "  New  Eng 
land — old  family — Harvard.  After  he  came  out  of  college  he 
began  to  paint  and  he  painted  darn  well.  I've  seen  some  of  his 
things.  Suddenly  something  happened — I  don't  know  what — 
nobody  knows  what  for  that  matter.  He  started  a  magazine  called 
The  Negro  Woman.  It's  an  obscure  publication.  Nobody  sees  it. 
But  in  it  for  fifteen  years,  Rip's  fought  the  black  woman's  fight. 
Somebody  asked  him  once  why  he  did  that  and  he  said  the  negro- 
woman  was  the  under-dog  of  the  world.  On  the  whole,"  John 
finished  slowly,  "  he's  the  best  person  I  know." 

Nobody  spoke  for  a  moment.  Then,  "  Lord! "  Southward  ex 
claimed,  "  I  should  say  he  was." 

Southward  who  had  come  to  spend  the  evening  with  Hester 
chattered  on  indifferent  subjects  until  the  two  men  disappeared 
tip  the  road.  Then,  "  Two  New  York  women  I  "  she  interrupted 
herself  suddenly.  "  Hester,  we're  up  against  it." 

Hester  laughed  a  laugh  that  had  no  mirth  in  it.  "I'm  always 
up  against  it.  I  don't  mind  of  course,  except  that  I'm  scared  to 
death.  People  of  that  kind  who've  been  everywhere  and  seen 
everything  frighten  me  almost  out  of  my  senses.  But  you  don't 
mind  them,  Southward.  I've  yet  to  see  the  girl  who  can  compete 
with  you." 

"  Well,  just  between  ourselves,"  Southward  admitted,  "  so  have 
I.  But  my  Waterloo's  got  to  come  sometime,  Hester.  Maybe  it's 
now."  She  paused  and  her  boyish  smile  flickered  brilliantly  across 
her  lips.  It  was  obvious  that  she  herself  did  not  believe  that  that 
time  had  come.  "  Anyhow,  I'll  give  them  a  run  for  their  money." 


CHAPTER  V 

SOUTHWARD  had  gone  home  long  ago.  Mrs.  Crowell  sat  on  one 
side  of  the  hexagonal  table,  knitting  her  afghan.  Hester  sat  on 
the  other  side  reading.  There  had  not  been  a  word  spoken  for 
an  hour. 

"  Too  bad  about  those  New  York  women  coming,"  Mrs.  Crowell 
broke  the  silence  suddenly.  Her  voice  was  toneless  as  ever,  her 
handsome  face  set. 

Hester  raised  unsuspicious  inquiring  eyes.  "  Too  bad ! "  she 
repeated.  "Well,  I  thought  so  at  first.  I'm  always  so  scared  of 
new  people.  But  I  got  over  that  as  I  talked  with  Southward. 
It  seems  rather  interesting  to  me  now."  She  closed  the  book  over 
her  forefinger,  looked  up  at  her  mother  with  the  air  of  one  who 
anticipates  pleasant  talk. 

"  Well,  I  suppose  you  realise,"  Mrs.  Crowell's  voice  had  a  meas 
ured  quality  as  of  one  saying  something  mentally  rehearsed.  She 
stopped  to  unknot  her  worsted,  "  that  it  won't  be  any  further  use 
for  you  to  set  your  cap  for  John  Smith.  I  could  see  by  the  way 
he  talked  of  Edith  Hale  that  he  was  dead  in  love  with  her." 

"  Mother !  "  Hester  leaped  to  her  feet.  The  book  slapped  on 

the  floor.  "  What  do  you  mean — setting  my  cap You  ought 

to  know  me  better  than  to  think  that  I I'm  ashamed  to 

,discuss  it." 

"  Well,  I  ain't,"  her  mother  said  tranquilly,  not  bothering  to 
look  at  her,  "  and  don't  try  to  pretend  with  me.  I  know  what 
you  are,  root  and  branch.  I've  seen  what  you've  been  up  to.  So 
has  everybody  else  in  Shayneford  that  ain't  blind.  You  and 
Southward  are  both  trying  to  get  those  two  men.  Sarah  Wallis 
asked  me  yesterday  if  he  was  waiting  on  you.  Southward'll 
probably  succeed.  She's  smart  enough  to  do  anything,  besides  being 
pretty  and  knowing  how  to  dress.  But  of  course  you'd  pick  out 
a  man  that  was  crazy  about  another  woman.  You're  bound  to 
do  that." 

"  Well,  you  are  mistaken."  By  an  effort  Hester  quieted  the 
excitement  in  her  voice.  "  And  all  Shayneford  is  mistaken.  It 
has  never  entered  my  head  to  think  of  Mr.  Smith  from  that 
point  of  view.  I  don't  consider  any  man  from  that  point  of 

117 


118  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

view.  I  never  have.  I  don't  think  well  enough  of  myself. 
Whether  he's  engaged  or  married  to  any  other  woman  makes  no 
difference  to  me." 

"  Yes,  it  looks  like  that ! "  Mrs.  Crowell  sneered,  but  it  was  still 
in  a  voice  of  dead  steel.  "  Then  what's  all  this  fussing  before  the 
glass  for?  What  does  all  this  pulling  your  hair  away  soft  on 
your  forehead  mean  and  dressing  up  with  the  neck  of  your  waist 
turned  away?  Why  you  do  it  with  such  a  thin  neck  is  beyond 
me.  Why  are  you  dragging  out  all  the  old  lace  in  the  house 
and  fixing  it  on  your  dresses  if  you  aren't  setting  your  cap  for 
him?  I  see  a  good  deal  more,  miss,  than  you  give  me  credit  for." 

"Mother!"  An  emotion  fairly  maniacal  burst  through  Hester's 

expression.  She  looked  wildly  about  her.  "  Mother,  if  you " 

But  in  the  midst  of  her  fury,  a  sudden  resolution  caught  her. 
She  strode  out  of  the  house. 

She  walked  at  a  furious  rate  straight  up  the  quiet  star-lit  road, 
on  and  on  past  houses  until  they  came  at  rare  intervals  and 
then  not  at  all ;  on  and  on  until  the  road  grew  narrow,  grew  wild, 
grew  black  with  interarching  boughs;  and  still  on  and  on.  Then 
her  stride  relaxed.  She  stopped  suddenly,  leaned  against  a  tree- 
trunk.  She  sobbed  and  her  sobs  shook  her  like  a  sirocco.  Gradu 
ally  they  died  down,  the  long  breathy  catches  in  her  breathing 
smoothed  out.  She  sank  on  the  moss  at  the  foot  of  the  pine  and 
lay  there  quiescent  for  a  long  time. 

"  Well,"  a  voice  exclaimed  suddenly,  "  I've  caught  up  with  you 
at  last.  I've  been  five  minutes  at  it.  I  saw  you  pass  the  Twombly 
road."  It  was  Smith's  voice  and  the  clear  light  of  his  electric 
torch  beat  relentlessly  on  her  swollen  bloated  face.  "  Oh,  I  beg 
your  pardon !  "  He  turned  the  light  away.  "  What  is  it  ?  What 
can  I  do?" 

For  an  instant,  Hester  shook  with  a  fresh  and  fiercer  paroxysm. 
Her  voice  strangled  in  her  throat.  Then  with  a  tremendous  effort, 
she  stiffened  and  quieted.  "  Thank  you,  Mr.  Smith.  There  is 
nothing  that  you  can — I'm  a  little  upset  over  something." 

"  Are  you  going  anywhere  in  particular  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  No." 

"  Then  suppose  we  walk.  Unless  you'd  rather  sit  and  be  quiet. 
Perhaps  you'd  rather  be  alone.  Shall  I  go  ?  " 

"  I — I — I  don't  know,"  Hester  answered  wanly.  "  Yes,  I  think 
I'll  walk.  No— don't  go." 

"We  won't  talk  if  you  don't  want  to  talk,"  Smith  went  on. 
"  Or  I'll  do  all  the  talking.  Or  I'll  listen  to  you." 

Hester  did  not  reply  and  they  walked  for  a  long  while  in  silence. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  119 

It  was  a  still  night,  moonless  but  full  of  stars.  Nothing  moved 
near,  except  a  firefly  vibrating  through  the  dark  or  a  moth-miller 
thudding  noiselessly  against  them.  Afar,  a  star  occasionally 
broke  away  from  the  vast  piles  that  lay  everywhere  in  the  sky, 
and  shot  with  a  long  silent  silvery  hiss  to  the  horizon.  Nothing 
sounded  near  or  far  but  their  feet,  padding  the  dusty  road.  Smith 
lighted  his  pipe,  puffed  quietly.  His  left  hand  threw  the  light 
of  the  torch  before  them. 

"  I  guess  I'll  tell  you  about  it,"  Hester  said  at  last,  in  a  spent 
voice.  "  Nobody  knows  it  all.  Southward  has  guessed  a  little. 
I  can't  tell  her  everything.  She's  too  close  to  it.  It  seems  a  dis 
loyalty  to  talk  it  over  with  her.  But  you're  so  far  away — you're 
like  a  passing  ship.  Somehow  I  can  tell  you." 

"  It's  your  mother,"  Smith  declared  as  she  paused. 

"  Yes,  it's  my  mother." 

"  I  got  that  this  afternoon,"  Smith  volunteered. 

"  I  felt  that  you  did,"  Hester  said  simply.  "  You  see  I'm  a 
disappointment  to  her.  I've  always  been  a  disappointment.  She 
was  a  great  beauty  when  she  was  young.  Very  charming  and 
vivacious,  everybody  says.  She  had  many  admirers." 

"  She's  handsome  enough  now,"  Smith  interjected.  "  Remarkably 
so." 

"  Isn't  she  ?  I  love  to  look  at  her.  There's  something  aris 
tocratic — I  love  all  her  lines  and  curves.  And  don't  make  any 
mistake  about  it — I  love  her.  I  love  her  dearly.  But  sometimes 
I  think  she  has  never  loved  me.  It  sounds  unnatural,  but  I'm 

afraid  it's  true.  My  father  loved  me  but  she And  then  you 

see  I  had  a  younger  sister — Beatrice.  And  Beatrice  was  every 
thing  my  mother's  daughter  should  be.  She  was  beautiful  and 
graceful  and  charming  and  accomplished.  She  was  sweet — people 
always  took  to  her.  Mother  worshipped  her.  I  always  realised 
that;  there  was  a  difference  in  mother's  treatment  of  us.  I  didn't 
mind  though.  It  seemed  natural.  I  adored  Bee  as  much  as  mother 
did.  I  took  a  peculiar  delight  in  her  beauty.  She  was  a  black- 
haired,  blue-eyed  type.  I'll  show  you  her  picture  sometime." 

"  I'd  like  to  see  it,"  Smith  said. 

"  Beatrice  married  five  years  ago — at  twenty.  She  had  a  little 
girl — another  Bee.  Mother  was  very  happy  when  Bee  came — 
happier  than  I  have  ever  known  her.  And  so  was  I.  I  loved  little 
Bee  beyond  words.  I  know  that  men  aren't  much  interested  in 
children,  and  I  don't  want  to  bore  you.  But  I  must  tell  you 
about  Bee.  She  was — oh,  I  am  very  sure  an  exceptional  child. 
She  was  beautiful  and,  even  as  a  baby,  had  personality.  And  she 


120  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

loved  me.  My  single  triumph  was  that  she  would  come  to  me 
any  time  from  her  mother  or  her  grandmother.  There  is  a  period 
between  three  and  four  when  a  baby  is  most  engaging.  It's  just 
after  she's  learned  how  to  talk  and  walk.  Little  Bee  died  just 
before  her  fourth  birthday,  and  my  sister  died  two  days  later — 
diphtheria." 

Smith  drew  a  sharp  breath. 

"It  nearly  killed  my  mother.    As  for  me — well,  I  had  mother 

x-to  take  care  of.    She  all  but  went  insane.    And  the  effect  of  this 

"  shock  and  grief  was  to  turn  her  indifference  to  me  to  what  was 

temporarily  a  real  mania  of  hatred.     For  weeks  she  reproached 

me  incessantly  for  being  alive  when  they  were  dead.     God  knows 

I  would  gladly  have  changed  places  with  Bee.    I  don't  think  that 

temperamentally  I  have  a  strong  desire  to  live,  although  I  don't 

bother  much  about  it  one  way  or  the  other.     After  a  while,  that 

period  passed.    Mother  settled  back  into  her  life  again.    We  never 

mention  Beatrice  or  Bee  but "  She  paused  with  a  strangled 

abruptness. 

"  But  your  life  is  a  hell,"  Smith  finished  for  her. 

"Yes — a  hell."  Hester  admitted  this  as  though  to  herself  and 
as  though  for  the  first  time.  "  You  see  her  main  criticism  of  me 
is  that  I  don't  have  lovers  like  other  girls."  Hester  laughed 
suddenly  and  there  was  real  mirth  in  her  laugh.  "  But  I  don't 
know  what  I  can  do  about  that." 

"  Why  don't  you  leave  her  for  a  while  1 "  Smith  asked  after  a 
moment,  when  puffing  vigorously  and  exuding  long  streamers  of 
smoke,  he  seemed  silently  to  consider  the  situation. 

"  She  won't  let  me.  By  a  curious  contradiction  she  clings  to 
me  even  while  she  despises  me.  Last  year  I  was  offered  a  really 
good  position  in  Metchford.  I  am  a  teacher  you  know — here  in 
the  High  School.  She  told  me  that  if  I  accepted  it,  she  would 
kill  herself.  This  is  what  we  had  to  fight  immediately  after 
Beatrice's  death — suicidal  mania.  Of  course  I  declined  it — al 
though  we  two  could  have  boarded  on  her  little  income  and  my 

salary.  Sometimes  I  feel  as  if  I  were  at  the  end  of  my  rope 

Sometimes — — "  Hester's  voice  grew  deep  as  another  woman's 
voice  might  have  grown  thin  with  hysteria.  But  as  though  this 
new  note  had  resolved  her  emotions,  her  tone  immediately  changed 
to  a  clear  quietness.  "  Please  don't  let  it  bother  you.  To-morrow 
I  shall  be  all  right.  Only  remember  I  shan't  regret  telling  you. 
Already  I  feel  better  for  it." 

Smith  smiled  his  charming  smile.  "I  hope  so.  For  perhaps 
I  can  help  you — if  not  now,  sometime.  I  mean — get  you  out  of  it." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  121 

His  smile  vanished  abruptly  and  that  inner  turbulence  suddenly 
made  his  eyes  sombre,  brought  out  concealed  lines  in  a  network 
all  over  his  face.  He  broke  into  a  harsh  laugh.  "  I  understand, 
Hester.  God,  how  I  understand.  But  there's  always  a  way  out 
and  I'm  going  to  find  it  for  you." 

"  I  thank  you  very  much,"  Hester  said  with  timid  gratitude. 

They  walked  without  talking  for  another  interval.  The  spacious 
night  pressed  hard  on  them.  Stars,  furred  with  silver,  continued 
to  shoot  in  straight  lines  into  space.  Fireflies,  furred  with  gold, 
continued  to  draw  eccentric  arcs  about  them.  Huge  white  moth- 
millers  continued  to  beat  silently  against  them.  Trees  webbed 
them  in  allees  of  a  frail  sooty-dark  lace.  Not  a  sound  broke  the 
stillness  but  the  pad  of  their  feet  on  the  road.  Smith  had  put  his 
pipe  away.  He  was  negotiating  a  cigar  now. 

"You  see,  Hester,"  he  broke  the  silence  abruptly.  "I  under 
stand  because — well,  I'm  in  prison  too.  I  want  to  tell  you  about 
it.  And  I  have  never  been  tempted  to  tell  anybody  about  it  before 
— never."  His  voice  sank  a  little  on  that  second  never.  Immedi 
ately  he  resumed  his  pleasant  quizzical  tone.  "  I'd  like  to  give 
confidence  for  confidence.  But  I  can't  be  a  mucker  and  that  would 
be  a  mucker  trick.  I'm  tied  hand  and  foot  just  as  you  are. 
Your  imprisonment  may  end  sometime.  Mine  never  will. 
That's  why  I  understand.  That's  why  I'm  going  to  get  you 
out." 

"  Oh,  I'm  sorry,"  Hester  said.  "  I'm  sorry.  Somehow  it  seems 
more  terrible  for  a  man.  Somehow  it  seems  as  though  a  man 
could  not  possibly  know  how  to  stand  waiting  and  enduring." 

Smith  laughed.  "  Most  of  them  do  it  very  badly,  I'll  admit." 
He  volunteered  nothing  further.  They  walked  in  silence. 

"  I've  made  a  curious  discovery,"  Hester  said  suddenly  in  a  calm 
tone  of  discussion.  "  I've  come  to  the  conclusion  that  the  instinct 
for  grandmotherhood  is  almost  as  strong  in  some  women  as  the 
instinct  for  motherhood.  It  is  a  terrible  disappointment  to  my 
mother  that  I  haven't  married.  In  reality  her  quarrel  is  with 
life — that  she  will  not  be  a  grandmother  again.  That's  one  of 
her  constant  reproaches.  And  of  course  I'm  helpless  in  the 
matter." 

"  Has  it  never  occurred  to  you  to  adopt  a  child  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,  but  she's  adamant  on  that  point.  I  have  discussed 
it  with  her  a  thousand  times.  She  has  that  foolish  pride  in  her 
own  flesh  and  blood  that  so  many  people  have.  The  child  must 
be  ours — she'll  take  no  risks  with  alien  strains.  But  then  I'm  not 
going  to  pay  any  attention  to  that.  I  shall  adopt  a  child 


122  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

sometime,  maybe  two.  When  I  earn  enough  to  take  care  of  it. 
I've  told  her  that." 

"  Oh,  it's  all  wrong,"  Smith  exclaimed,  "  this  business  of 
parenthood.  Somehow  it  seems  as  though  all  the  wrong  people 
had  children  and  none  of  the  right  ones.  Have  you  ever  read 
Wells'  Tono  Bungay?  Do  you  remember  that  talk  between  Ewart 
and  Ponderevo?  That  vision  they  have  of  a  new  arrangement  of 
the  world — the  sexes  to  have  their  separate  worlds — that  City  of 
the  Women,  beautiful  with  gardens,  flowers,  trees,  fountains,  and 
lakes,  the  men's  world  where  they  can  fight  and  invent  and  hunt 
and  sail?  And  when  the  women  want  the  men,  they  let  them 
come  to  visit  them — they  have  a  little  ladder  that  they  let  down — 
do  you  remember  ?  " 

"  Oh,  perfectly,"  said  Hester.  "  Only  Ewart  and  Ponderevo 
agreed  that  there  were  objections  to  that  plan.  And  there  are. 
But  of  course  there  are  objections  to  all  plans." 

"  Yes,  it  seems  so.  However  if  there's  one  thing  that  I'm  more 
convinced  of  than  any  other  thing  it  is  that  there  is  one  right 
of  healthy  normal  women — the  right  to  motherhood." 

"  The  right  to  motherhood !  "  Hester  repeated  after  him.  "  The 
right  to  motherhood!  What  an  extraordinary  idea!  And  what  an 
appalling  one!  It  frightens  me." 

"  But,  Hester,  there's  something  more  I  want  to  say  to  you," 
Smith  went  on,  not  apparently  interested  in  the  abstract  trend  of 
their  talk.  "  I  feel  a  little  foolish  in  saying  it  and  I'm  sure  I 
shan't  do  it  with  much  finesse.  But  I'm  going  to  say  it  neverthe 
less.  There's  one  point  on  which  your  mother  is  much  mistaken — 
a  misapprehension  that  you  too  share  apparently.  That  is  in  the 

matter  of  personal  pulchritude "  He  smiled  at  his  own  phrase. 

"  You  know — or  apparently  you  don't  know — that  there  are  two 
kinds  of  beauty.  There's  the  obvious  beauty  that  hits  you  straight 
in  the  face  and  knocks  you  over  in  the  first  round.  Then  there's 
the  other  kind  that  you  don't  get  the  first  time  you  look  at  it. 
It's  not  so  much  a  matter  of  line  arid  colouring  as  of  character 
and  soul.  Artists  are  the  only  ones  ordinarily  who  see  that  kind 
of  beauty.  And  even  they  don't  always  find  it  immediately.  It's 
a  fluid,  changeable,  imponderable,  subtle  thing,  evasive,  elusive, 
evanescent.  It  depends  on  mood  and  light  and  health — and — 
oh,  a  lot  of  things.  You  have  that  kind  of  beauty.  Artists  for 
instance  would  find  you — at  your  best — paintable.  I  mean  by  that 
they  would  want  to  paint  you." 

"  Paint  me!  "  Hester  echoed  stupidly.    "  What  for?  " 

"For  what  your  face  suggests; — not  what  it  is.     What's  finest 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  123 

in  you  isn't  on  the  surface.  It  isn't  curve  or  colour.  It  never 
appears  in  an  unsympathetic  atmosphere.  But  it  sifts  out  when 
you're  excited  or  interested — in  the  play  of  hundreds  of  expres 
sions,  in  the  constant  change  of  light  to  shade  and  shade  back  to 
light  again.  Some  people  would  call  you  a  Burne-Jones  or  a 
Rosetti.  Southward  is  beautiful — at  least  she  will  be.  She  has 
that  other  more  obvious  kind  of  beauty  and  in  addition  of  course 
beaute  du  diable.  But  she's  not  really  lived  or  suffered  in  the  big 
sense.  She's  as  hard  as  nails,  though  a  fine  creature.  That  hard 
ness  still  lies  on  her  features.  You  haven't  in  any  sense  lived 
yet  and  that's  missing  from  your  face.  Nor  have  you  really  suf 
fered — in  the  big  sense.  You've  suffered  all  the  minor  agonies, 
and  that's  made  you  only  apathetic.  But  when  you're  with  us  and 
that  apathy  breaks — well,  from  my  point  of  view,  you're  paintable." 

"  Paintable !  "  Hester  dully  repeated  the  new  word.  "  Are  you 
crazy?  Me?" 

,"  No.  I'm  sane.  You'll  find  it's  true  when  you  come  to  New 
York  and  our  painter-friends  tell  you  so." 

"  Paintable !  "  Hester  said. 

"  Paintable !  "  Smith  iterated. 

"  Paintable !  "  Hester  whispered.     "  Please  say  it  again." 

Smith  smiled.  "  Paintable ! "  he  reiterated  with  his  pleasant 
smile. 

"  Paintable !  "  Hester  breathed. 

"  But,"  Smith  went  on,  "  if  you'll  pardon  me,  I  think  you  could 
improve  your  appearance  if  you  did  your  hair  differently.  I  don't 
know  how  you  should  do  it  of  course.  I'm  as  stupid  as  most  men 
when  it  comes  to  such  things.  I'm  quite  sure  though  that  your 
present  system  isn't  the  right  one.  You  don't  show  it  off  to  advan 
tage,  and  it  isn't  correlated  with  your  head." 

"  Paintable !  "  Hester  breathed  again. 

Mrs.  Crowell's  needles  were  still  clicking  when  Hester  returned. 

"  Well,  I  hope  you've  got  over  your  temper,"  she  said  without 
looking  up  at  her  daughter.  "  Where  have  you  been — it's  twelve 
now  ? " 

"  Yes,  I've  got  over  it,"  Hester  answered  crisply  both  her 
mother's  questions,  "  I've  been  walking  with  Mr.  Smith." 

"  Oh,"  Mrs.  Crowell  sneered.     "  Still  after  him?  " 

Hester  burst  into  a  ringing  laugh.    "  So  it  would  seem." 

Startled,  Mrs.  Crowell  looked  at  her. 

An  inner  light  had  burned  through  every  surface  of  Hester — a 
light  so  strong  that  it  tore  away  her  sallowness  and  dulness.  Her 


124  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

eyes  shone,  her  teeth  glittered,  her  hair  sparkled.  "  Guess  I'll  go 
to  bed,"  she  said  buoyantly.  "  Good  night,  mother." 

Mrs.  Crowell  did  not  reply.  She  stared  at  the  spot  where  Hester 
had  stood.  She  listened  attentively  to  Hester's  new  gait — that 
swift  incisive  tread  on  the  stairs. 

But  Hester  did  not  go  to  bed  at  once.  She  tore  her  clothes 
off,  took  her  place  before  the  mirror.  She  pulled  her  braid 
forward,  unplaited  it  with  fingers  that  fairly  spun,  pulled  the 
strands  out  until  it  flowed  in  twin  rivers  of  gold  over  each 
shoulder,  across  each  breast.  She  leaned  down  suddenly  and 
picked  up  Tabby  who  had  followed  her  upstairs  and  now  stood 
purring  and  curving  against  her  bare  legs.  Then  she  stood  move 
less  looking  at  herself  in  the  glass. 

That  inner  glow  had  deepened  her  eyes  to  wells,  star-lighted  at 
the  bottom;  it  had  changed  her  skin  to  porcelain,  rose-tinted  in 
the  cheek.  And  her  hair  billowed  up  from  her  face  like  flame. 

"Paintable!"  Hester  said.  "Paintable!  Paintable!  Paint- 
able  ! "  She  stood  there  a  long  time,  murmuring  the  word  in 
Tabby's  ear. 


CHAPTER  VI 

"I'M  dreading  it,"  Hester  said  without  preliminary  greeting, 
when  the  next  day  she  met  Southward  at  the  cross-roads.  And  in 
fact,  her  face  was  dull.  Deep  circles  lay  under  her  eyes. 

"  I'm  not,"  Southward  boasted.  "  It  would  take  more  than  two 
New  York  women  to  frighten  me,"  she  added  contemptuously. 

"  I  wouldn't  be  frightened  if  I  were  you,"  declared  Hester. 
"  You  look  lovely — you  slim  thing !  " 

Southward  was  all  in  white,  a  freshly  laundered  linen-gown, 
white  Panama  hat,  white  silk  stockings,  low  white  shoes.  She  was 
not  smart,  nor  elegant,  but  she  showed  all  her  own  natural  trim- 
ness.  Hester  wore  a  gown  that  demonstrated  perfectly  her  lack 
of  sartorial  authority,  a  navy-blue  foulard,  a  typical  country 
product,  over-fitted  and  over-trimmed.  An  over-burdened  country 
hat  sat  too  high  on  her  heavy  braids. 

"  It's  the  queerest  thing,"  Hester  went  on,  "  about  five  minutes 
before  I  go  anywhere,  I'd  give  the  world  to  get  out  of  it.  In  fact, 
now — oh,  Southward — can't  you  go  without  me  ?  " 

Southward  laughed  heartlessly.  "  Can,"  she  admitted  in  an 
amused  tone,  "  but  won't,"  she  added  in  an  inflexible  one.  "  Buck 
up,  Hester!  Pull  yourself  together.  Nothing's  ever  so  bad  as  it 
seems.  They  won't  eat  you,  and  after  it's  over  you'll  find  you've 
had  an  interesting  experience.  Remember  I've  said  all  along  that 
this  is  the  beginning  of  something  wonderful." 

"  Yes,  I  know.  It  was  all  right  when  it  was  only  men.  They're 
not  so  critical,  but  when  women  come  into  it — I'm  so  afraid  of 
strange  women." 

"  Yes,  but  you  can't  go  anywhere,"  Southward  said  impatiently, 
"  without  running  into  women.  And  you  can't  get  anywhere 
without  their  help."  She  went  on,  perhaps  with  deliberate  inten 
tion,  to  talk  of  other  things.  Hester  listened  obediently.  At  first 
she  answered  Southward's  questions  only  with  perturbed  monosyl 
lables.  But  before  they  had  walked  far,  she  had  responded  in 
whole  to  the  fascination  that  Southward's  quick,  decisive,  dogmatic 
personality  always  exercised  on  her. 

"  And  there's  the  camp,"  Southward  ended.  "  Looks  pretty, 
doesn't  it?  Three  tents.  The  men  sleep  in  the  big  tent.  Mrs. 

125 


126  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Boardman  and  Mrs.  Morrow  have  one  of  the  small  ones  and  Miss 
Hale  the  other.  They  do  their  cooking  in  the  cabin  and  they  eat 
out-of-doors  on  that  big  table  under  that  big  Chinese  umbrella  in 
the  centre." 

"  How  in  the  world  do  you  know  all  this  ? "  Hester  laughed  in 
spite  of  a  palpable  recrudescence  of  her  perturbation. 

"  Lysander,"  Southward  admitted  calmly.  "  Looks  as  though 
there  wasn't  a  soul  there.  They  haven't  seen  us  yet.  Oh,  there 
they  are !  " 

Just  ahead  the  country  lane  broke  and  merged  with  a  big  cleared 
grassy  semi-circle  that  ended  at  a  pond.  On  three  sides,  forests 
of  pine  and  fir  cushioned  it  with  soft  shadow;  on  the  other  side 
a  pond  seemed  to  set  an  enormous  half  bubble  in  the  green  earth. 
That  bubble  was  lined  with  a  blue  that  had  dripped  from  the  sky. 
And  over  this  blue  floated  ghost-clouds,  sun-shot  to  a  silver  fragility. 
The  little  camp  that  had  seemed  so  quiet  suddenly  exploded  with 
activity.  From  tents  and  cabins  emerged  summery  figures. 

"  The  woman  in  white  is  Mrs.  Morrow,"  Southward  explained. 
"  The  one  in  pink  is  Miss  Hale.  The  grey-haired  one  is  Mrs. 
Boardman." 

Cameron  and  Smith  disengaged  themselves  from  the  group,  hur 
ried  forward  to  meet  the  girls. 

"  We  were  just  about  to  organise  a  search  party,"  Smith  called. 
And  "  we've  had  our  faces  pressed  against  the  window  for  the  last 
half-hour,"  Cameron  said  reproachfully. 

"  Are  we  late  ?  "  Southward  asked  without  apparent  guile.  "  Did 
your  guests  come  ?  " 

"  Yes — last  night,"  Smith  answered. 

"  I  wish  you  could  see  how  we've  worked  for  two  days  to  make 
this  place  ship-shape  for  you  and  them,"  Cameron  exclaimed. 

"  You  needn't  have  worked  for  me,"  Southward  interjected,  "  I 
don't  care  how  it  looks." 

"  It  was  Miss  Crowell  we  were  really  afraid  of,"  Smith  an 
nounced. 

Hester  smiled,  still  struggling  with  embarrassment.  "  It  will 
please  Hester  to  think  anybody's  scared  of  her,"  Southward  came 
to  her  rescue. 

They  were  drawing  near  to  the  camp.  The  three  women  were 
sitting  now  in  the  little  cleared  circle.  "  I've  got  to  do  the  intro 
ducing,"  Smith  declared.  "  It's  the  worst  job  I  know.  Mrs.  Board 
man,"  he  said  in  a  stern  tone  of  command,  addressing  the  elderly 
woman,  "  I'm  going  to  put  you  through  first." 

Mrs.  Boardman  lifted  a  head  of  grey  hair,  carefully  coiled,  and 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  127 

studded  with  hairpins  of  a  silvery  shell,  a  neat-featured,  small 
face,  a  little  grey  too,  and  grey  eyes-  of  a  shoe-button  roundness. 

"  Let  me  introduce  Miss  Drake  and  Miss  Crowell.  And  Mrs. 
Morrow  and  Miss  Hale,  Miss  Drake  and  Miss  Crowell.  Morena, 
let  me  present  you  to  Miss  Drake  and  Miss  Crowell — his  hind 
name's  O'Reilly  by  the  way.  And  Rip — Mr.  Fearing — let  me 
introduce  you  to  Miss  Drake  and  Miss  Crowell.  Thank  heavens, 
that's  out  of  my  system." 

The  flurry  of  names  died  away  in  a  general  murmur.  Out  of  it 
came  Mrs.  Morrow's  flute-like  voice.  "  John  is  the  only  man  I 
know  who  never  mixes  himself  up  in  introductions.  He  always 
introduces  the  young  to  the  old,  the  male  to  the  female,  the  un 
married  to  the  married,  the  obscure  to  the  famous.  It's  because 
he  likes  mathematics."  Mrs.  Morrow  laughed  gaily  at  her  own 
cryptic  explanation.  "  Now,"  she  added,  "  as  Miss  Drake  and 
Miss  Crowell  have  not  seen  the  camp,  I  propose  to  show  it  to 
them.  Especially  as  we're  all  bursting  with  pride  over  an  un 
natural  condition  of  neatness.  Don't  bother  to  come,  mother." 
She  turned  to  Mrs.  Boardman. 

"  I  was  going  to  ask  to  be  excused,"  said  Mrs.  Boardman.  Her 
head,  of  which  not  a  hair  had  seceded  from  an  elaborate  coiffure, 
bent  over  the  delicate  lace  she  was  working.  "  I  think  I've  walked 
enough  for  one  day." 

Mrs.  Morrow  placed  herself  on  one  side  of  Southward.  Cameron 
darted  to  the  other  side.  Morena  O'Reilly  took  a  position  at  Mrs. 
Morrow's  right.  Hester  followed  with  the  others. 

"  Have  you  ever  camped  out,  Miss  Drake  ? "  Mrs.  Morrow  asked. 

"  Often,"  Southward  answered,  turning  her  eyes  straight  on  her 
interlocutor,  "  in  this  very  camp."  A  glimmer  appeared  suddenly 
between  her  eyelashes.  She  turned  her  gaze  away;  it  met  Morena 
O'Reilly's  glance  fixed  intently  on  her.  For  an  instant,  they 
stared  at  each  other.  In  that  instant,  a  spark  flashed  from  eye 
to  eye. 

"  I  suppose  you've  been  proposed  to  all  over  the  place,"  Morena 
O'Reilly  accused  her  suddenly. 

Southward  blushed — the  blush  of  one  whose  secret  thought  has 
been  exposed.  But  it  was  a  beautiful  blush,  more  a  glow  really; 
as  though  some  flame-coloured  liquid  fountaining  up  into  her  face 
had  been  transmuted  by  her  bronzed  skin  to  gold.  She  kept  her 
straight-lashed  gaze  directly  on  Morena,  however.  "  Shayneford 
is  an  Adamless  Eden — almost,  Mr.  O'Reilly."  In  another  instant 
the  blush  had  evaporated.  "  You  do  look  comfortable  here,"  she 
said  with  a  renewed  coolness. 


128  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Mrs.  Morrow's  oblique  gaze  had  stayed  on  her  during  this  little 
interval.  "  There's  always  one  kind  of  comfort  where  men  are," 
she  said.  "  Of  course  we're  very  lucky  to  have  a  cabin  with  a 
stove  in  it.  Ling  cooks  us  the  most  wonderful  food.  Here's  the 
kitchen." 

Southward  glanced  into  the  hut  with  an  appraising  eye.  "  You'd 
better  mend  that  chimney  before  it  rains,"  she  advised  practically, 
"  or  you'll  have  trouble.  That  stove  is  a  beast  in  rainy  weather. 
I've  had  my  own  troubles  with  it." 

"  All  right,"  said  John  Smith,  "  I'll  see  to  that." 

"  Here's  where  the  men  sleep."  Cameron  pulled  back  the  flaps 
of  the  big  army-tent  and  the  group  stood  for  an  instant  gazing  in. 
In  each  corner  was  a  cot,  covered  with  grey  army-blankets.  Four 
chairs,  set  with  mathematical  accuracy  about  a  big  deal  table, 
made  the  rest  of  the  furnishings.  Clothes  suspended  on  hangers 
dangled  from  a  square  frame-work.  Everything  was  orderly. 

"  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  it  three  hours  ago  when  John 
cleaned  it  up,"  Mrs.  Morrow  commented,  laughing.  "  John  is 
really  neat.  He  has  the  military  idea  of  cleanliness.  He's  more 
than  military — he's  ascetic.  No,  he's  worse  than  ascetic — he's 
conventual."  She  turned  so  that  she  flung  this  word  straight  into 
Smith's  face.  He  acknowledged  it,  bowing.  "  The  rest  are  far 
from  conventual."  She  transferred  her  dazzling  smile  to  Cam 
eron,  "  especially  Dwight." 

"  Personally,"  Mr.  O'Keilly  protested,  "  I  can't  see  the  use  of 
hanging  things  up  or  of  putting  them  away ;  you're  always  needing 
them,  so  why  not  leave  them  where  you  can  find  them  ? "  He 
turned  to  Southward  as  though  for  support. 

"  I  quite  agree,"  Southward  had  begun. 

"  There's  a  great  deal  in  what  you  say,  Morena,"  Mrs.  Morrow 
interrupted.  She  smiled  at  him.  "  I'm  a  little  that  way,  my 
self."  By  a  slight  indicatory  movement,  she  set  them  all  moving 
forward. 

Earely  pretty,  certainly  not  lovely  and  in  no  circumstances 
beautiful,  Mrs.  Morrow  would  always  be  interesting,  picturesque,  a 
little  exotic.  Any  beauty  that  regularity  could  give  was  missing 
from  her  face;  it  did  not  in  shape  even  approach  the  oval,  con 
ventionally  demanded  for  beauty;  it  was  round;  it  had  a  per 
turbing  concavity  of  contour.  Her  colouring  was  unusual,  pale 
blond,  not  so  much  a  northern  blondness  as  a  sea-blondness.  She 
would  have  made  an  admirable  mermaid.  Her  eyes  were  grey,  pale 
and  baleful — pale  because  lashes  thickly  dark  made  contrast  with 
them;  and  baleful  because  the  broad  white  lids  drooped  half  over 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  129 

the  pupils.  White  and  smooth,  her  skin  had  a  faint  natural  gloss 
which  she  did  not  entirely  dull  with  powder.  Her  soft  fine  hair, 
silvery-gold  with  a  hint  of  green,  grew  in  a  beautiful  curving  line 
about  her  brow,  her  ears,  the  round  of  her  neck.  Her  lips  were 
the  purple-red  of  ripe  cherries.  Her  figure  was  saved  from 
voluptuousness  by  a  suggestion  of  the  underlying  muscularity  of 
a  big  frame.  She  was  extraordinarily  supple. 

Beyond,  Morena  O'Reilly  presented  a  marked  contrast  to  Mrs. 
Morrow's  sea-blondness.  So  dark  that  he  was  almost  swarthy, 
rings  in  his  ears  and  a  blood-red  handkerchief  on  his  head  would 
have  seemed  appropriate  decoration.  His  hair  was  cut  close,  but 
it  broke  into  thick  jetty  black  waves,  so  stiff  that  they  might  have 
been  carved  from  coal.  His  jetty  eyebrows  were  thick,  his  jetty 
eyelashes  long.  He  wore  above  lips'  red  and  as  beautifully  shaped 
as  a  woman's,  a  crisp  jetty  moustache,  thick  but  short.  The  blend 
of  two  races  was  apparent  in  his  face  but  it  was  a  perplexed  study 
to  disentangle  them.  For  although  his  hair  was  Spanish  in  colour, 
it  was  Irish  in  curl.  And  although  his  deep  blue  eyes  were  Irish 
in  expression  they  were  Spanish  in  shape.  The  whiteness  of  his 
skin  on  the  other  hand  was  all  Celt,  the  fulness  of  his  lips  all 
Spanish.  There  was  nothing  girlish  about  him,  although  he  es 
caped  only  by  a  miracle  being  too  good-looking.  He  was  wiry 
and  tensely-drawn  as  to  figure,  twinklingly  humorous  as  to  ex 
pression. 

Beyond  these  two  walked  Southward,  slim  and  straight  with  her 
quick  alert  boy's  gait,  her  head  ground  to  a  boyish  roundness  by 
the  heavy  sleek  hair,  her  eyes,  straight-lashed  and  straight-gazing, 
jet  poured  into  silver,  her  raspberry  lips  parted  showing  the  blue- 
white  edge  of  her  little  teeth.  Beside  Hester,  the  city-women 
looked  like  hot-house  plants — exquisitely  trained  and  cared-for. 
Beside  Southward,  they  looked  like  sunless  cellar-products — almost 
under-nourished.  Southward's  skin  might  have  been  satin  but  for 
its  hardness,  bronze  but  for  its  flexibility,  glass  but  for  its  fluidity. 
Something  moved  under  it,  constantly  giving  it  light,  shadow, 
colour.  Yet,  if  you  tapped  it,  you  would  expect  it  to  ring  faintly 
like  metal. 

Behind,  Hester  walked  with  Miss  Hale  and  John  Smith.  Ripley 
Fearing  had  taken  Miss  Hale's  parasol.  He  tried  to  hold  it  over 
both  women.  Obviously,  Hester  still  suffered  from  the  embarrass 
ment  of  so  much  new  acquaintance.  Perhaps  Miss  Hale  was 
equally  embarrassed  or  perhaps  she  was  naturally  quiet.  At  any 
rate,  Smith  kept  up  a  running  fire  of  small-talk,  humorous  com 
ment,  impertinent  question,  full  of  a  harmless  male-antagonism 


130  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

that  gradually  drew  the  women  together  as  allies  and  brought  all 
four  into  the  sunny  whimsicality  of  his  mood.  From  under  the 
parasol,  Ripley  Fearing  aided  and  abetted  him. 

"  You  and  Miss  Hale  have  a  great  many  points  in  common, 
Hester,"  John  said  once,  "  I  prophesy  fearlessly  that  you're  going 
to  like  each  other." 

"  Oh,  I'm  sure  of  that,"  came  from  under  the  parasol. 

Hester  murmured  something  utterly  inarticulate  but  cor 
roborative. 

"  Of  course  I  know,"  Smith  went  on,  "  that  to  make  a  remark 
like  that  is  the  signal  for  the  people  involved  to  hate  each  other. 
But  in  this  case,  you  can't  hate  each  other.  I  forbid  it." 

"  Oh,  we  won't  do  that.    We  promise,  don't  we,  Miss  Crowell  ? " 

Again  Hester  murmured  in  assent  something  that  nobody  could 
possibly  have  caught. 

"  But  what  have  we  in  common,  John  ? "  Miss  Hale  continued. 
Her  voice  was  low,  languid,  singularly  expressionless.  It  was  a 
little  like  the  voice  of  a  deaf  woman.  Only  its  natural  music 
prevented  it  from  being  monotonous. 

"  Well,  to  begin  with — you're  both  lazy,"  Smith  answered 
promptly. 

"  Dear  me,"  said  Edith  Hale  with  an  enlivening  touch  of  arch 
ness,  "  I  had  hoped  that  he  was  going  to  say  beautiful.  Didn't 
you,  Miss  Crowell  ?  " 

"  I  looked  for  '  charming '  at  the  very  least."  Hester  had  at 
last  got  her  shyness  under  control. 

"  And  in  addition,"  John  struck  on  vigorously,  "  you're  both 
unenterprising,  lackadaisical,  lymphatic,  dead-and-alive." 

"  What  would  you  prescribe  for  us,  John  ?  "  came  the  sweet,  dead 
voice  from  under  the  parasol. 

"  Get  into  a  revolutionary  movement  of  some  description,"  Smith 
said.  "  Throw  a  few  bricks,  set  a  few  buildings  on  fire — break  all 
the  laws  you  can." 

"  There's  plenty  of  that  sort  of  stuff  to  be  done,"  Fearing  sug 
gested,  "  without  breaking  any  laws.  I  can  get  you  both  a  job 
picketing  in  the  next  woman's  strike  that  conies  up  in  New  York. 
Have  you  ever  knocked  a  man  down,  Miss  Crowell  ? " 

"  Only  one,"  Hester  answered  apologetically. 

The  effect  of  this  simple  statement  was  extraordinary.  Miss 
Hale  emitted  a  ripple  of  laughter  that  had  real  mirth  in  it.  But 
the  men  burst  into  roars  so  loud  and  prolonged  that  the  quartette 
in  front  turned  back. 

"  It's  only  Miss  Crowell  who's  going  to  tell  us  how  she  knocked 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  131 

a  man  down  once,"  John  explained.  "  I  aimed  at  a  sparrow  and 
brought  down  a  seraph,"  he  added  in  an  aside  to  Miss  Hale. 

"  It  wasn't  anything  to  tell,"  Hester  faltered.  And  she  blushed 
one  of  her  terrific,  unbecoming  blushes.  u  It  happened  one  night 
in  Oldtown.  A  party  of  us  were  out  walking.  There  was  a  little 
young  girl  with  us.  As  we  passed  a  group  of  men,  one  of  them 
spoke  to  her  and  put  his  hand  on  her  shoulder.  And  I — I  never 
could  remember  exactly  what  happened.  I  didn't  stop  to  think. 
I  hit  out  at  him.  He  was  balancing  on  the  edge  of  the  sidewalk. 
Anyway  he  went  right  over  sideways.  Mercy  how  it  scared  me ! " 

"  What  did  he  do  ?  "  Fearing  asked  with  interest. 

"I  don't  know,"  Hester  answered.  "We  all  ran  away, 
screaming." 

Everybody  laughed.  The  forward  four  turned  and  went  on. 
Hester  relapsed  into  silence. 

"  I  think,"  Mr.  Fearing  commented,  emerging  from  the  parasol, 
"  there's  good  stuff  here.  Edith's  almost  a  hopeless  case.  I'm 
afraid  we  never  can  make  a  militant  of  her.  But  I  don't  see  why 
we  should  train  Miss  Crowell  to  beat  up  policemen." 

"  Here  we  come  to  the  boudoirs,"  Mrs.  Morrow  called  from  the 
front.  "  We  can  dispense  with  the  company  of  the  men-people." 

Protesting,  the  men  returned  to  the  cabin.  Mrs.  Morrow  pulled 
back  the  flap  of  her  tent.  "  I'll  take  Miss  Crowell  to  my  place," 
Edith  Hale  said  suddenly. 

"  All  right,"  Mrs.  Morrow  agreed.  "  That  may  save  time. 
They're  to  ring  the  bell  when  tea's  ready." 

Mrs.  Morrow's  tent  was  almost  as  big  as  the  men's. 

For  a  non-committal  instant  Southward's  gaze  went  first  to  the 
trunk  that  stood  open  on  end  in  a  corner.  One  half  was  filled 
with  clothes  suspended  on  hangers  as  neatly  ordered  as  a  closet. 
The  other  half  was  filled  with  drawers,  half-opened.  On  the  two 
beds  lay  linen  cases  embroidered  with  initials.  Over  one  bed-end 
hung  a  negligee  of  pale-green  silk,  profusely  trimmed  with  a 
delicate  butter-coloured  lace,  a  boudoir-cap  of  the  same  lace 
trimmed  with  narrow  ribbons  of  the  same  green.  On  a  painted 
bureau  stood  a  mirror  in  carved  and  gilded  wood.  About  this 
in  puzzling  variety  lay  toilet-articles  in  gold  and  green 
enamel,  little  boxes  and  big,  small  brushes  and  large,  thin  bottles 
and  fat,  many  golden  instruments  so  tiny  and  slim,  so  pointed 
and  sharp  that,  but  for  the  coquettish  decoration  on  their  handles, 
they  would  have  been  surgical  in  effect.  Southward's  gaze  slashed 
over  these  things;  it  lingered  for  the  longest  interval  on  an  old 
bureau  of  mahogany,  standing  across  a  corner. 


132  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  Why,  that's  Gert  Beebee's  bureau,"  she  exclaimed  suddenly. 

"  Yes,  isn't  it  a  wonder !  "  Mrs.  Morrow  said.  "  A  real  Sheraton. 
Mother  bought  it  of  her  this  morning.  For  a  song  too.  This 
town  must  be  full  of  old  stuff.  Mother  deals  in  it,  you  know. 
Would  you  like  some  powder?  Or  a  comb?  Or  a  hairpin?" 
She  rapidly  flipped  off  the  covers  of  one  or  two  of  the  enamelled 
boxes. 

Southward  declined  these  conveniences.  She  never  powdered. 
Her  skin  always  kept  its  faint  metallic  lustre.  And  her  hair,  by 
means  of  its  own  cohesion,  always  clung  close  to  her  head. 

Mrs.  Morrow  seated  herself  cross-legged  on  the  bed,  the  tips 
of  her  shining  black  shoes  protruding  from  under  the  hem  of  her 
pearly  skirt. 

"  I  don't  suppose  you've  seen  enough  of  Shaynef  ord  to  know 
what  it's  like  yet,"  Southward  began. 

"  No,  but  we  went  about  a  little  this  morning.  And  Dwight's 
driving  me  over  to  Wingate  to-morrow.  That  will  give  me  some 
idea  of  the  country.  I  think  Shayneford  is  a  duck  of  a  place.  I 
feel  so  exhilarated  here  somehow.  I  was  awfully  tired  when  I  came 
down.  It  just  happened  that  mother  and  I  had  to  be  in  New  York 
part  of  the  summer — not  quite  in — but  out  and  in — you  know 
what  I  mean — week-ending.  It  seems  so  jolly  to  have  two  weeks 
of  uninterrupted  country  quiet.  Oh,  by  the  way,"  Mrs.  Morrow 
interrupted  herself  as  though  her  fluent  flow  of  talk  had  come  on 
a  cross-current  of  interruption,  "  who  is  the  young  person  who 
drove  us  from  the  station — tall,  strong-looking,  blond  ?  " 

"  Oh,  you  mean  Lysander,  I  guess.     Lysander  Manning." 

"He's  awfully  handsome,  isn't  he?  " 

"  Yes.    Lysander's  the  best-looking  man  in  Shayneford." 

"What  does  he  do?" 

"  Everything.  He's  a  rolling-stone.  He  generally  takes  some 
sort  of  travelling  job  for  the  winter — farms  here  summers." 

"  I  thought  he  was  a  darling — too  ducky  for  words." 

Mrs.  Morrow  spoke  in  a  quick,  abrupt  way  and  constant  emphasis 
lent  a  staccato  accent  to  her  speech.  She  was  restless.  Her 
hands  were  always  going  to  her  brow  to  push  back  the  encroaching 
ripples  of  hair,  or  they  pulled  at  the  fine  gold  chain  which  held 
a  lorgnette,  or  they  adjusted  the  folds  of  her  skirt.  Southward 
sat  absolutely  still.  Utterly  non-committal  in  expression,  motion 
less,  except  when  the  sweep  of  her  lashes  accompanied  her  gaze, 
she  might  have  been  a  carved  figure. 

"  By  the  way,"  Mrs.  Morrow's  conversation  jumped  suddenly  in 
another  direction.  "  What  do  you  think  of  Dwight's  novel  ?  " 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  133 

"  His  novel — his  novel !  "  Southward  repeated.  "  Oh,  you  mean 
Ginger.  Oh,  I " 

"  No.  I  don't  mean  Ginger.  Everybody  likes  that  of  course. 
I  mean  the  new  one — the  one  he's  begun  down  here.  You  all  have 
seen  it  of  course." 

"  I  haven't,"  Southward  answered  with  composure  and  with 
indifference. 

"I  haven't  either,"  Mrs.  Morrow  admitted  with  a  pretty  vexa 
tion.  "  He's  spoken  of  it  several  times  in  his  letters.  But  I  can't 
get  him  to  show  it  to  me.  He's  become  self-conscious  all  of  a 
sudden.  He's  always  been  awfully  nice  about  his  stuff.  I'm  really 
vexed  with  him  now.  He  comes  up  to  our  place  a  good  deal  to 
work  in  the  winter.  He  says  it's  the  only  spot  in  New  York 
in  which  he  can  be  quiet.  I  always  read  everything  as  fast  as  he 
turns  it  out.  I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do.  Perhaps  we  can  get 
him  to  read  a  chapter  or  two  to-night." 

Southward  made  no  comment  beyond,  "  That  would  be  inter 
esting." 

"  You  know  I  am  very  much  worried  about  Dwight,"  Mrs. 
Morrow  went  on.  She  turned  for  a  moment  to  gaze  absent- 
mindedly  into  the  glass  and  to  fluff  with  two  vicious  dabs  the  hair 
which  lay  on  her  forehead.  "  He's  really  got  great  ability.  Ginger 
made  a  sensation  and  had  a  very  good  sale  for  a  first  book.  He 
should  have  written  another  immediately  to  follow  up  that  success. 
But  he's  been  in  New  York  for  five  years  now  without  turning 
out  a  word  of  fiction.  I  scold  him  dreadfully  about  it.  I  think  this 
place  has  been  awfully  good  for  him.  It's  apparently  started  some 
thing.  When  he  gets  back  to  New  York  I  shall  shut  him  in  the 
study  every  night  when  he's  off  duty,  lock  the  door  and  throw  away 
the  key.  I  shan't  let  him  out  until  he's  produced  something." 
She  smiled  at  this  picture  of  feminine  tyranny.  Her  teeth  were 
big,  set  a  little  apart  from  each  other.  Somehow  they  increased 
by  an  infinitesimal  quantity  that  baleful  quality  of  her  look. 

As  before,  Southward  made  only  one  comment.  "  That  would 
be  a  good  system,  I  should  say."  But  she  did  not  once  take  her 
straight-lashed  gaze,  fuller  than  usual  of  its  enigmatic  directness, 
from  Mrs.  Morrow's  face. 

Mrs.  Morrow  drew  her  skirt  aside  and  absently  examined  the 
big  steel  buckles  on  her  patent  leather  shoes.  "  New  York  is  no 
place  for  work  however.  It's  too  noisy,  too  brilliant,  too  full  of 
colour,  light,  sounds,  smells,  drinks,  and  eats,"  she  continued 
fluently.  "  I'm  trying  my  best  to  get  Dwight  out  of  the 
newspaper  business  for  good,  to  induce  him  to  buck  the  free-lance 


134  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

game.  It's  just  a  matter  of  his  saying  enough  to  carry  him  for 
six  months.  Of  course  he's  wild  to  do  it  but  he  thinks  it's  too 
much  of  a  risk.  It  isn't  really.  But  you  can't  make  him  see  that. 
I'm  sure  that  going  abroad  would  do  wonders  for  him.  I'm  dying 
to  have  him  go  with  us.  We  can  put  everything — positively  every 
thing  in  his  way.  Do  help  me  to  get  him  to  go,  Miss  Drake." 

"  I  can't  think  I  hare  much  influence  with  Mr.  Cameron,"  South 
ward  answered  with  composure.  "  I'll  do  all  I  can  of  course." 
She  spoke  with  great  seriousness  and  she  dropped  her  long-lashed 
look  to  her  lap.  It  was  just  in  time,  that  sweep  of  the  lids,  to 
cover  the  blue-and-black  glimmer  in  her  eyes. 

Hester  had  accompanied  Miss  Hale  to  her  tent.  She  sat  in  a 
crepuscular  atmosphere  that  was  faintly  rosy  in  tint,  gazing  in 
bewilderment  about  her.  The  inside  of  the  tent  had  been  hung 
with  a  rose-garlanded  chintz,  that  pulled  the  walls  together  and 
gave  the  air  its  colour.  It  seemed  to  be  spilling  over  with  things — 
two  trunks,  one  of  them  for  hats,  carved  ivory  toilet  articles,  a 
bag  of  chintz,  another  of  brocade,  a  third  of  lace,  photographs 
framed  in  silver  or  leather,  standing  on  bureau  and  table. 

"Do  you  like  Shayneford,  Miss  Hale?"  Hester  asked  timidly, 
after  a  preliminary  patter  of  general  question  and  answer. 

"  I  think  it  is  very  beautiful,"  Miss  Hale  responded,  "  but  very 
sad." 

Expression  had  crept  for  the  first  time  into  Miss  Hale's  voice. 
When  she  said  beautiful  it  was  as  though  beauty  were  a  sadness; 
and  when  she  said  sad,  it  was  as  though  sadness  were  also  a  beauty. 

"  It  is  sad,"  Hester  agreed,  "  although  most  people  don't  see 
that.  I  think  almost  all  old  New  England  towns  are  sad — they 
belong  so  much  to  the  past.  I'm  glad  you  like  Shayneford. 
I'm  very  tired  of  it  myself.  But  I  think  it  is  a  beautiful  place 
and  I  am  always  pleased  when  people  admire  it.  You  see  I  have 
lived  here  all  my  life." 

"  How  strange  to  have  lived  always  in  one  place,"  Miss  Hale 
commented.  Her  voice  became  dreamy.  "  It  must  give  you  such 
a  feeling  of  belonging  somewhere.  I've  lived  in  so  many  places. 
I  belong  everywhere,  or  nowhere." 

"  Oh,  that  must  be  a  wonderful  feeling,"  exclaimed  Hester.  "  A 
citizen  of  the  world.  I  should  like  that." 

"It's  not  quite  that,  after  all,"  Edith  Hale  confessed.  "It's 
not  so  fine  or  splendid.  I'm  not  in  any  sense  a  citizen  of  the 
world.  It's  more  that  I  feel  disembodied,  that  I'm  a  citizen  of 
space.  Sometimes  I  think  it's  worse  than  that.  It's  as  though 
I'd  wandered  onto  the  wrong  planet,  as  though  I  really  belonged 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  135 

in  Jupiter  or  Venus  or  Mars  and  got  here  by  mistake."  She 
stopped. 

"  I  think,"  Hester  said,  giving  this  statement  the  thoughtful 
consideration  that,  in  conversation,  was  typical  of  her,  "  I  would 
not  like  that." 

"  I  assure  you  I  don't  like  it."  Miss  Hale  smiled  for  the  first 
time.  Just  as  her  voice  held  music  without  emotion,  her  smile 
held  illumination  without  mirth.  "  I  would  like  more  than  any 
thing,"  she  went  on,  "  to  think  that  there  was  somewhere  an  old 
house  that  belonged  to  me  and  always  had  belonged  to  me  or  mine 
— an  old,  old  house  with  an  old,  old  flower-garden,  old,  old  fur 
niture,  old,  old  pictures,  and  perhaps  a  ghost — a  very  gentle  ghost 
— oh,  I  think  I  would  always  be  going  away  for  the  sake  of  coming 
back  to  it." 

"I  think  I  understand  that,"  Hester  said  earnestly,  "notwith 
standing  most  of  the  time  I  wish  I  could  leave  Shayneford  and 
never  see  it  again." 

"  Really,"  Miss  Hale  commented  doubtfully.  "  Really,"  she  said 
again.  Suddenly  her  voice  grew  full  and  vibrant  with  emotion. 
"  Of  course  you  do.  Nobody  wants  to  stay  where  he  must. 

Oh "  Her  voice  took  another  leap  deeper  into  emotion.  It 

vibrated  with  a  full  swing.  "  Oh,  the  souls  that  are  in  prison !  " 

Hester  did  not  reply  for  a  moment.  And  plainly  she  was  a 
little  startled  by  this  emotional  rending  of  the  veil.  She  looked 
at  Miss  Hale  with  all  her  sympathy  and  interest  working  vividly 
in  her  face.  And  suddenly  she  came  into  possession  of  an  unex 
pected  articulateness. 

"  Yes,"  she  answered  quietly.  "  I  think  most  souls  are  in  prison. 
And  sometimes  I  wonder  if  '  prison '  isn't  synonymous  with  '  life.' 
I  mean  if  it  isn't  a  crucible  of  character.  To  be  put  into  solitary 
confinement  and  to  see  no  way  out,  to  know  that  the  sun  and  moon 
and  trees  and  flowers  and  birds  are  just  a  little  way  off  and  yet 
not  be  able  to  get  to  them,  to  know  that  one's  sentence  will  never 
be  commuted — after  all,  that's  the  final  test  of  the  stuff  that's  in 
you."  She  stopped  abruptly  and  with  a  recurrence  of  her  tem 
peramental  shyness,  stared  pleadingly  at  her  companion. 

Of  all  four  women,  Miss  Hale  was  obviously  the  oldest;  she 
could  have  been  either  side  of  forty.  Strictly  speaking,  she  was 
the  most  feminine  type  among  them,  notwithstanding  features  as 
coldly  regular  as  those  of  a  Greek  head  and  notwithstanding  a 
certain  unanalysable  quality  of  unhealthiness.  Everything  about 
her  pointed  to  a  brave  fight  against  the  despoilments  of  maturity. 
Her  skin,  in  spite  of  a  waxy  whiteness,  looked  cared-for;  her 


136  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

shining  hair  arranged,  with  a  careful  carelessness,  softened  and 
shadowed  it.  Her  very  brows  and  lashes  in  some  mysterious  way 
bespoke  training.  They  could  not  conceal,  however,  that  the  hazel 
eyes  under  them  were  sad  and  that  little  whitish  wrinkles  had 
drawn  faint  gossamers  at  their  corners.  Her  features  had  begun 
to  sharpen.  She  was  like  a  flower  on  the  first  day  of  fading;  as 
though  the  live,  warm,  breathing,  palpitating  texture,  without  loss 
of  tint  or  shape,  had  suddenly  turned  to  a  transparent  porcelain. 

This  worn  womanliness  was  pointed  by  clothes  that  contrasted 
in  every  possible  way  with  Mrs.  Morrow's  piquant  smartness.  She 
was  dressed  exactly  as  though  the  tent  were  a  drawing-room.  Her 
short  gown  was  a  soft  rose-coloured  silk.  As  far  as  possible, 
it  receded  from  close-fitting  lines  in  favour  of  a  delicate 
reactionary  fulness.  Everything  about  her  was  fine  in  quality, 
fragile  in  fabric,  clinging  or  floating;  she  was  soignee  to  the  last 
detail.  A  triangular  shawl  of  an  old  white  point  d'Alen^on  hung 
about  her  shoulders.  Under  her  chin  was  a  chou  of  white  malines, 
fastened  with  bar-pins  of  pearl.  Thin,  close  high-heeled  slippers 
of  white  suede  showed  every  outline  of  her  pretty  feet. 

Miss  Hale's  expression  had  responded  with  flitting  light  and 
shade,  with  involuntary  sensitive  movements  of  the  lips  to  Hester's 
speech.  "  Yes,"  she  agreed,  "  I  am  sure  you  are  right.  I  think " 

But  what  Miss  Hale  thought  never  manifested  itself.  For, 
"  There's  the  phonograph,"  Mrs.  Morrow's  clear  voice  announced 
from  the  next  tent.  "  Tea's  ready." 


CHAPTER  VII 

SMITH  was  unpacking  a  tea-basket  on  the  big  table  in  the 
centre  of  the  camp  platform.  Cameron  was  watching  the  flame 
of  a  little  silver  tea-kettle  whose  nose  emitted  a  thin  coil  of 
steam.  The  other  two  men  were  flying  back  and  forth  from 
table  to  kitchen,  fetching  crackers  and  cheese,  opening  tins  of 
sardines  and  bottles  of  olives.  Mrs.  Boardman,  still  placidly 
crocheting,  occasionally  offered  a  suggestion. 

Mrs.  Morrow  seated  herself  at  the  table  indicated  to  everybody 
where  he  was  to  sit,  arranged  the  tea-cups,  asked  and  received 
instructions  as  to  milk,  cream,  sugar,  and  lemon.  All  the  time, 
the  phonograph  continued  to  play  and,  all  the  time,  in  spite  of  her 
preoccupation,  Mrs.  Morrow's  trim  feet,  her  supple  waist,  her 
square  strong-looking  shoulders  were  moving  with  it. 

She  drank  her  tea  almost  in  a  gulp.  Then  she  put  the  cup 
down  with  a  decisive  gesture.  "  I  can't  stand  it  a  moment  longer," 
she  confided  to  them  all.  "  Come  and  dance  with  me,  Dwight, 
or  I  shall  explode." 

Cameron  was  at  that  moment  talking  with  Southward.  He 
arose  after  a  pause  that  was  barely  perceptible,  put  down  his 
untasted  tea  and  moved  over  to  Mrs.  Morrow's  chair.  She  arose. 
His  arm  went  about  her  waist.  She  rested  her  hands,  palms 
upward,  on  his  forearms ;  they  floated  off. 

"  Mrs.  Morrow  is  a  wonderful  dancer,"  Southward  said  at  the 
end  of  a  minute  to  Morena  O'Reilly,  who  had  immediately  moved 
into  Cameron's  place. 

"  Yes,"  O'Reilly  agreed  without  removing  his  eyes  from  South 
ward's  face.  "  Wonderful !  She's  a  born  dancer.  She'd  rather 
dance  than  eat." 

"  They're  perfectly  matched,"  Southward  went  on,  "  Mr. 
Cameron  is  a  good  dancer  too." 

"  Possibly,"  O'Reilly  answered  and  still  his  eyes  clung  to 
Southward's  face.  "  I'm  not  looking  at  them."  He  paused. 
Southward's  gaze  followed  the  dancers.  "  Perhaps  because  I've 
got  something  better  to  look  at."  His  voice  dropped  a  little. 

At  this,  Southward  turned.  Her  eyes  met  his.  Coolly  and 
speculatively  she  looked  at  him.  And  again,  begotten  of  nothing, 

187 


138  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

that  spark  flashed  through  the  air  between  them.  But  Southward 
continued  to  study  him  coolly  and  speculatively.  Then,  "  I 
congratulate  you,"  Southward  said,  "I  haven't  anything  better 
to  look  at." 

However  she  said  this  with  a  smile  and  after  another  keen-eyed 
interval  of  consideration,  she  turned  away  from  the  dancers  and 
gave  Morena  her  full  attention.  Everybody  else  watched  Mrs. 
Morrow  and  Cameron;  occasionally  they  applauded. 

They  were  indeed  well  matched.  Mrs.  Morrow  had  the  dancer's 
build,  the  dancer's  gift,  the  dancer's  delight  in  dancing.  Cameron 
had  the  poised,  perfected  body  of  the  born  athlete.  He  moved 
with  authority  and  grace.  They  wove  through  a  variety  of  figures 
that  must  have  been  improvised;  yet  it  was  as  though  they  had 
been  rehearsed.  Mrs.  Morrow's  supple  body  responded  to  the 
faintest  hint  from  her  partner.  And  always  her  shoulders  curved 
and  palpitated,  her  waist  swayed  and  spiralled,  her  hands,  turned 
palm  upward,  cupped  and  fluttered. 

Cameron  guided  her  deftly  to  a  chair  just  as  the  record 
threatened  to  run  down.  He  bowed  low.  "Put  in  another  disc, 
John,"  he  called.  Then  he  made  directly  to  Southward  who,  deep 
in  tete-a-tete  with  Morena  O'Reilly,  apparently  did  not  see  him. 
"  May  I  have  this  ? "  Cameron  interrupted. 

Southward  looked  up  at  him,  smiled,  appeared  to  hesitate,  com 
plied  finally.  She  danced  well  too — but  with  the  clean,  rhythmic, 
unsexed  quality  of  a  young  boy  joying  in  exercise.  Any  dancing 
must,  however,  seem  commonplace  in  comparison  with  Mrs. 
Morrow's.  After  an  interested  interval,  their  audience  fell  again 
into  conversation.  John  asked  Hester  to  dance,  then  Miss  Hale. 
Both  women  declined,  Miss  Hale  because  she  was  too  tired, 
Hester  because  she  could  not  dance. 

Dwight  and  Southward  continued,  Cameron  signalling  to  Smith 
from  time  to  time  to  renew  the  records.  Mrs.  Morrow  watched 
them,  her  feet  twinkling  back  and  forth  under  her  skirt,  her  whole 
body  swaying  in  sympathy.  "  Come,  Morena,"  she  called  finally. 
"  I  can't  stand  this  any  longer.  I'll  dance  with  you  even  if  I  am 
mad  with  you."  Morena  leaped  gallantly  to  her  side.  He  was  a 
better  dancer  even  than  Dwight.  He  had  a  Latin  fluidity  of 
physique;  they  moved  as  one  person.  Nobody  looked  at  the  other 
two. 

Smith  continued  to  feed  the  phonograph.  He  dropped  com 
ments  from  time  to  time  to  Miss  Hale.  She  reclined  in  her 
steamer-chair,  her  statuesque  arms  extended,  her  beautiful  hands 
folded  in  her  lap.  She  listened  attentively  to  whatever  Smith 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  139 

said  but  she  herself  was  silent.  Sometimes  apparently  the  .im 
pulse  to  speak  would  seize  her.  Her  lips  would  part,  a  faint  colour 
would  flood  her  face.  But  just  as  her  mouth  settled  on  the  first 
word,  she  would  mentally  sink  back  into  herself;  her  remark  would 
melt  into  a  sigh. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  her,  Edith  ? "  Smith  said  finally  in  an 
undertone. 

"  Oh,  she's  sweet ! "  Miss  Hale  replied  with  a  little  drift  of 
animation.  "  But  pathetic." 

"  Lord,  yes — pathetic — horribly  so,"  Smith  agreed.  "  Thank 
you  for  getting  that  awful  hat  off.  Hasn't  her  face  interesting 
possibilities  ? " 

"  Wonderful.    Miron  would  paint  her  to-night  if  he  were  here." 

"  Did  you  ever  see  such  extraordinary  hair  ? " 

"  No.  Except  that  there's  really  too  much  for  beauty.  She 
ought  to  cut  half  of  it  off." 

"  Good  Lord !  "  Smith  ejaculated.  "  Cut  that  hair !  That  ought 
to  be  a  State  Prison  offence." 

Miss  Hale  laughed  her  low  sad  laugh.  "  That's  so  like  a  man." 
she  commented.  " '  A  woman's  crowning  glory  is  her  hair.'  We 
women  haven't  so  much  respect  for  mere  quantity  you  know. 
But  that  seems  to  be  all  that  appeals  to  men.  You  don't  know 
what  quality  is.  Azile's  hair  for  instance,  is  simply  wonderful. 
I  wonder  if  that  deification  of  mere  quantity  is  a  relic  of  the  days 
when  a  long  thick  braid  of  hair  was  so  convenient  to  drag  a 
woman  round  by." 

Smith  smiled.  "  Perhaps.  I  think  you're  going  to  like  her 
more  and  more,  Edith.  I  don't  know  of  anybody  I'd  rather  have 
for  your  friend.  And  God  knows,  she  needs  a  friend.  You  do 
too,"  he  added  as  an  afterthought. 

Kipley  Fearing  had  in  the  meantime  moved  over  to  Hester's 
side. 

"  Don't  you  dance,  Miss  Crowell  ? "  he  inquired. 

"N'o,"  Hester  said. 

"  Don't  you  like  it — or  perhaps  you  don't  approve." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  disapprove,"  Hester  protested.  "  It  isn't  that  at 
all.  It's  only  I  guess,  that  I  never  tried." 

"  Why  not  ?  "  Mr.  Fearing  asked. 

"  I  was  too  shy  and  self-conscious  until  I  was  grown  up," 
Hester  explained,  "  and  after  that,  I  was  ashamed  to  learn.  And 
yet "  She  paused. 

"  And  yet,"  Mr.  Fearing  urged  her. 

"I've  a  sort  of  feeling  that  I  would  enjoy  dancing  very  much 


140  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

if  I  only  learned.  Oh,  I  know  I'd  be  crazy  about  it.  You  see 
when  I  was  a  very  little  girl,  I  used  to  compose  dances." 

"  Compose  dances,"  Fearing  repeated.  "  That's  very  interest 
ing.  You  anticipated  a  new  art.  Dances  are  created  nowadays 
just  as  much  as  music  or  poetry  or  pictures  or  sculpture.  Tell 
me  about  it." 

"  I — I — I  don't  think  there's  really  anything  to  tell."  Hester's 
embarrassment  floundered  finally  to  a  full  stop.  She  stared 
helplessly  into  Fearing's  face. 

It  was  a  strange  face,  ugly  but  kind.  The  perceptible  droop 
of  the  lower  lids  of  his  brown  eyes  gave  to  his  long  slim  rectan 
gular  countenance  a  hound-like  quality.  His  eyes  had  the  hound's 
steadiness  and  quiet,  a  little  of  the  hound's  melancholy.  In  con 
versation,  those  eyes  glowed;  when  he  listened,  they  blurred,  grew 
vague.  They  dulled  now;  it  seemed  to  give  Hester  courage. 

She  swung  suddenly  into  one  of  those  intervals  of  ease  and 
inarticulateness  that  occasionally  broke  her  constitutional  shy 
ness. 

"  My  mother  used  to  play  the  piano  a  great  deal  when  I  was  a 
little  girl.  She  wasn't  a  finished  musician  by  any  means  but  she 
loved  to  play  and  she  had  a  very  soft  touch.  Many  a  time,  I've 
waked  in  the  morning  to  her  playing  and  many  a  time  I've  fallen 
asleep  to  it.  And  sometimes  at  twilight,  she'd  sit  for  hours  at  the 
piano.  As  I  grew  older,  I'd  shut  myself  in  my  room  and  dance 
to  her  music.  She  did  not  know  it.  Nobody  knew  it.  I  would 

have  died  rather  than I  say  dance — and  yet "  Hester's 

brow  roughened  with  perplexity,  "  it  wasn't  exactly  what  you'd  call 
dancing.  It  was — whatever  movement  the  music  suggested  to  me. 
At  any  rate,  it  always  seemed  to  me  that  each  piece  of  music  re 
quired  a  different  dance.  I  used  to  love  it  really.  I  felt — well,  I 
can't,  tell  you  exactly  how  I  felt — but  I  had  a  sensation  of  great 
delight.  I  was  always  rested  afterwards,  although  I've  danced  for 
an  hour  at  a  time." 

"  And  don't  you  ever  dance  any  more  ? "  Fearing  asked  after  a 
pause. 

"  Oh,  no — mother  never  plays  any  more.  And  then  I  suppose  I 
would  not  have  kept  it  up  anyway.  I  was  awfully  shy  about  it. 
I  couldn't  have  danced  before  people  for  anything.  And  of  course 
it  was  harder  to  conceal  as  I  grew  older.  And  so  I  just  naturally 
outgrew  the  impulse.  And  the  fact  that  mother  played  less  and 
less  must  have  made  a  difference.  She  never  touches  the  piano 
now.  Why  I  can't  remember  when  there's  been  any  music  in  the 
house." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  141 

"  And  why  is  that  ? "  Fearing  continued. 

"  I  don't  know,"  Hester  said  slowly.  "  Or  at  least  I  guess  it's 
part  growing  old  and  part  the  sadness  of  life." 

"It's  a  pity  that  either  of  you  should  have  stopped,"  Fearing 
commented.  "It  would  undoubtedly  do  you  good  to  dance  and 
your  mother  good  to  play.  I'm  going  to  teach  you  to  dance." 

"  Oh,  I  couldn't,  I'm  afraid,"  Hester  protested. 

"You  can  and  must,"  Fearing  asserted  with  his  kind  decisive 
ness.  "  Now.  Come !  " 

He  drew  her  away  from  the  others,  back  into  the  shadow  of  the 
trees,  put  his  arm  about  her.  "  Now  do  exactly  as  I  tell  you,"  he 
ordered  kindly.  He  gave  her  some  brief  succinct  directions. 

Obviously  limp  with  fright,  obviously  half-blind  and  half-deaf 
with  embarrassment,  Hester  tried  to  follow  his  directions.  But 
her  efforts  were  more  struggle  than  dance. 

"You're  not  doing  what  I  tell  you,"  Fearing  said  calmly  re 
leasing  her.  "  Listen,  I'll  tell  you  once  more."  He  repeated  his 
instructions  with  the  same  limpid  conciseness.  "  Try  again !  " 

"  I  can't,"  Hester  breathed. 

"  Yes  you  can — if  you'll  listen.  Now  I'll  tell  you  once  more. 
Now  we're  off." 

"  I  can't,"  Hester  faltered.  But  even  as  she  said  it,  she  began 
to  respond  to  his  determination,  to  sway  in  time  to  the  music. 
He  held  her  there  dancing  without  a  rest  while  record  after  record 
ran  its  course.  "  You're  doing  beautifully,"  he  encouraged  her. 
"  And  you're  a  natural  dancer — just  as  I  suspected.  That's  right. 
What  did  I  tell  you?  I'm  proud  of  you." 

"I  say,"  Mrs.  Morrow  called  suddenly.  "Let's  all  go  in  swim 
ming  now  and  have  dinner  later."  She  dropped  into  her  chair  at 
the  head  of  the  tea-table.  She  picked  up  a  fan  and  fanned  herself 
violently.  The  tendrils  of  her  floss-fine  hair  flew  in  every  direc 
tion  in  the  violent  breeze  she  evoked.  Wherever  Mrs.  Morrow 
alighted  there  was  always  disturbance.  Everybody  stopped  talking 
to  look  at  her  now ;  for  everybody,  except  Southward — and  Dwight 
perhaps — was  drawn  into  the  suction  of  her  centripetal  personality. 

"  Sure,  I'm  for  that,"  exclaimed  Dwight.  "  How  about  the 
others  ? "  His  eye  swept  the  group  but  it  stopped  at  Southward. 

"  I  can't  go  in  swimming,"  said  Southward,  "  I  brought  no  suit." 

"And  I  don't  swim  anyway,"  Hester  interposed  hastily. 

"Please  take  my  suit,  Miss  Drake,"  offered  Edith  Hale.  "I 
never  enjoy  bathing  so  late  in  the  day.  It  takes  too  long  to  get 
warm  afterwards.  I  think  it  will  fit  you  very  nicely." 

"  Thank  you.    I  shall  be  very  glad  to  wear  it." 


142  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"I've  brought  quantities  of  books  down  here,  Miss  Crowell," 
Edith  Hale  said,  "  I'm  one  of  those  people  who  have  to  read  them 
selves  to  sleep  every  night.  And  I  think  I  have  all  the  newest 
magazines.  Wouldn't  you  like  to  borrow  some  of  them  ? " 

"  Oh,  I  would !  "  Hester  exclaimed.  "  And  my  mother  is  always 
so  glad  of  a  new  book.  Our  Library  doesn't  give  us  much  of  a 
choice  you  know." 

"Let's  come  back  to  my  tent  for  a  moment.  There  are  some 
nice  new  English  novels  and  the  latest  volume  of  Masefield." 

The  group  broke  up.  The  bathers  departed  swiftly  in  the  direc 
tion  of  the  tents.  Mrs.  Boardman  retired  for  her  afternoon  nap. 
Hester  and  Edith  strolled  more  slowly  in  her  wake. 

The  bathers  returned  after  a  while,  the  men  in  gymnasium 
suits,  Mrs.  Morrow  in  a  one-piece  arrangement  of  a  brilliant  red 
silk,  Southward  in  a  more  conventional  two-piece  suit — also  of 
silk — a  piquant  combination  of  black  with  white.  They  lined  up 
on  the  bank  and  at  a  signal  ran  to  the  water's  edge  and  plunged  in. 

If  Mrs.  Morrow  had  been  the  centre  of  attraction  while  they 
danced,  Southward  usurped  that  place  when  they  swam.  And 
just  as  obviously  as  Mrs.  Morrow  danced  for  the  joy  of  dancing, 
Southward  swam  for  the  joy  of  swimming.  Her  slim  body  cut 
the  water  like  a  knife-blade;  yet  she  had  the  buoyancy  of  a  cork. 
The  water  controlled  the  others.  Southward  controlled  the  water. 
She  could  move  through  it  like  a  motor-boat,  tearing  it  to  a  mov 
ing  whirlpool  of  foam  or,  seeming  to  float  hands  and  feet  under 
the  surface,  she  would  skim  along  as  though  propelled  by  an 
invisible  force.  She  held  her  head  and  shoulders  high,  or  she 
dropped  her  chin  into  the  hollow  of  her  crooked  elbow,  or  she 
hid  her  face  in  the  water;  it  seemed  to  make  no  difference  in 
her  speed.  She  swam  under  water  for  incredible  intervals.  Her 
vitality  was  proof  against  cold ;  the  colour  staid  in  her  cheeks  and 
lips.  After  diving,  her  sleek  head  became  more  sleek  with  the 
jetty  mass  of  her  hair  clinging  wet  to  it.  It  began  to  grow  dark. 
Mrs.  Morrow,  protesting  that  she  was  cold,  emerged  and  disap 
peared  into  her  tent.  One  by  one,  the  men  deserted  the  water. 
Finally  Southward  and  Dwight,  left  alone,  headed  towards  the 
centre  of  the  lake,  all  but  disappeared  in  the  twilight. 

"  How  do  you  like  them  ? "  Dwight  asked  as  they  pulled  beyond 
earshot. 

"Very  much,"  Southward  replied  with  a  tempered  enthusiasm. 

"I'm  awfully  interested  in  your  first  impressions,"  Cameron 
went  on.  "  What  do  you  think  of  Rip  ?  " 

"  I  haven't  had  much  to  say  to  him  yet,"  Southward  answered 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  143 

instantly.  "  And  of  course  he's  not  exactly  the  sort  of  man  that 
I  find  myself  most  at  home  with " 

"  What  sort  of  man  is  that  ? "  Dwight  interrupted. 

"  Well — I  don't  know  exactly  how  to  describe  the  kind  of  man 
I  like — he  can't  be  too  practical  and  out-of-doorsy.  You're  more 
my  type  of  course,  and  Lysander  Manning.  I  feel  as  if  I  might 
find  it  hard  to  talk  with  your  Mr.  Fearing.  And  yet  I  like  him 
too." 

"  He's  a  dandy,"  Cameron  said  enthusiastically.  "  Now,  what 
do  you  think  of  Morena  ?  " 

Southward  smiled  a  little.  And  for  a  moment,  she  did  not 
answer.  "  I  think  he's  awfully  handsome,"  she  said  after  a  while, 
as  though  she  were  not  saying  all  she  thought. 

"  I  suppose  he  is,"  Cameron  commented.  "  I'd  forgotten  all 
about  that  though.  I  remember  when  I  first  met  him,  I  didn't 
think  he  could  be  a  Regular  Fellow  and  yet  be  such  a  Handsome 
Hank." 

"  Where  did  you  meet  him  ? "   Southward  asked. 

"Mrs.  Morrow  picked  him  up  somewhere  in  Europe — Paris  I 
think.  He's  part  Irish,  part  Spanish  but  a  lot  American.  She 
persuaded  him  to  come  back  to  America — he'd  got  a  little  ex 
patriate.  He  ran  with  a  crowd  of  fellows  whose  main  business 
in  life  is  drinking  cocktails  at  the  American  bar  there.  Azile  just 
reached  out  and  clawed  him  out  of  that  set,  made  a  new  man 
of  him.  She's  great  on  that — seeing  what's  in  people  and  making 
them  develop  it." 

Southward  made  no  comment. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  the  women,  Miss  Hale  for  instance  ? " 
Cameron  went  on  categorically. 

"  I  don't  see  how  anybody  could  help  liking  her,"  Southward 
said,  "  although  she's  not  my  particular  kind  of  woman." 

"  What  is  your  particular  kind  of  woman  ? "  Dwight  demanded 
again. 

"  No  kind,"  Southward  declared  instantly.  "  As  a  rule  I  hate 
women — all  except  Hester — of  course  I'm  strong  for  Hester.  And 
Charlotte.  I  suppose  Miss  Hale  is  probably  more  Hester's  sort 
than  mine — not  that  anybody  could  help  liking  her,  she's  so  gentle 
and  sweet.  She  seems  sad  somehow.  She's  beautiful  though — 
almost  like  a  Greek  head,  isn't  she  ? " 

"  Yes — sculptors  always  go  crazy  over  her.  Her  type  is  a  little 
cold  and  regular  for  my  taste.  But  I  see  all  that  you  see  and 
she's  a  fine  woman  of  course.  What  do  you  think  of  Mrs.  Mor 
row  ? "  There  was  an  offhand  quality  to  Cameron's  inflection. 


144  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  She's  very  fascinating,"  Southward  said  with  emphasis.  "  And 
a  wonderful  dancer.  Quite  picturesque  too."  She  paused  an 
instant.  "  Is  she  a  widow  ?  "  she  asked  casually. 

"  Yes.  She  was  a  Mrs.  Henry  Morrow.  Mrs.  Azile  Morrow 
now." 

"  Azile !  "  Southward  repeated.  "  Azile !  What  a  queer  name ! 
Is  that  her  own  name  ? " 

"Yes— oh,  yes." 

"  Azile,"  Southward  reiterated  musingly  in  the  tone  of  one 
who  is  visualising  the  word,  "  Azile !  "  Suddenly  in  the  depths  of 
her  eyes  appeared  the  blue-and-black  glimmer  of  her  mirth. 
"  Azile  Morrow,"  she  repeated  carelessly.  "  It's  a  pretty  name. 
She's  very  different-looking,  if  you  know  what  I  mean." 

"  Artists  always  go  wild  about  her,"  Cameron  went  on.  "  Every 
body  does  for  that  matter.  She's  the  greatest  sport  in  New  York. 
Always  ready  for  a  good  time.  She's  as  strong  as  an  ox.  She 
doesn't  know  what  it  means  to  be  tired.  She  loves  the  theatre, 
gives  successful  box-parties,  is  mad  about  dancing,  has  dancing 
parties  at  her  house  two  or  three  times  a  week,  knows  everybody 
and  entertains  all  the  time  when  she  isn't  being  entertained. 
You'll  like  her.  You  two  were  just  built  for  each  other." 

Southward  smiled  cryptically.  "  She  interests  me  very  much. 
What  was  Mr.  Morrow  like  ? " 

"  I  never  saw  but  one  picture  of  him — severe-looking  old  guy 
with  military  moustaches.  She  rarely  mentions  him.  He  had  a 
little  money  when  he  married  her,  but  she  had  expectations  from 
an  old  aunt — an  Aunt  Eliza  who  was  a  great  character.  And  I'll 
be  blowed  if  the  old  girl — she  was  over  seventy — didn't  suddenly 
up  and  marry  a  man  thirty  years  younger  than  herself.  She  died 
inside  a  year,  leaving  it  all  to  her  husband." 

Southward  smiled  cryptically  again.  "Don't  you  think  we'd 
better  turn  back  now  ? " 

"  All  right.  Just  as  you  say."  They  turned  and  swam  a  while 
in  silence.  "  By  the  way,"  Cameron  said  carelessly,  "  I'm  taking 
Mrs.  Morrow  to  drive  to-morrow.  She  wants  to  see  something  of 
the  country.  I  thought  we'd  go  over  in  the  North  Shayneford 
direction.  It's  pretty  there — I  think  you  said." 

"  Oh,  yes,   awfully  pretty,"  Southward  answered. 

Another  silence  came.  "  What  are  you  doing  to-morrow  even 
ing? "  Cameron  asked.  "  I  thought  if  you'd  let  me,  I'd  call  in  the 
usual  way  and  by  the  usual  method — I  mean  the  garret." 

"  Oh — to-morrow  evening,"  Southward  exclaimed  in  a  tone  of 
polite  regret.  "  Mr.  O'Reilly's  coming  over.  He  asked  me  if  he 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  145 

might  see  the  house.  I  told  him  about  the  garret  and  then 
he  asked  if  he  might  see  that.  I  said  yes,  of  course.  Will  the 
house  really  interest  him  ? " 

"  Without  doubt,"  Cameron  answered  crisply,  "  it  would  interest 
anybody  and  Morena's  no  fool." 

"  So  I  gathered." 

There  came  another  silence. 

"  Hester's  going  home  with  you  to-night,  isn't  she  ? "  Cameron 
asked  abruptly. 

"  Yes,"  Southward  replied  in  her  most  casual  manner. 

"  Then  I  can't  come  to  the  garret  this  evening,"  Cameron  medi 
tated  in  an  irritated  voice.  "  Deuce  take  it !  When  can  I  see  you 
now?  May  I  come  late,  after  Morena's  gone?" 

Southward's  lashes  dropped;  the  blue-and-black  shimmer,  had 
become  permanent.  I  don't  see  how  you  can  leave  your 
guests." 

"  Oh,  damn  my  guests ! "  Cameron  exclaimed  with  real  im 
patience.  "  I'll  wait  until  they've  gone  to  bed." 

"  But  I'm  afraid  that  won't  do,"  Southward  objected.  "  Mrs. 
Morrow  evidently  sits  up  late." 

"  She  does — worse  luck !  "  Cameron  agreed  with  an  increased 
exasperation.  He  stopped  with  the  effect  of  waiting  for  some 
thing. 

No  sound  came  from  Southward  but  the  liquid  sweep  of  her  arms. 

"  Can't  I  come  after  they've  all  gone  to  bed? "  Cameron  asked  at 
last. 

"  I'm  afraid  that  will  be  too  late,"  Southward  answered 
languidly. 

"  Well,  I'll  tell  you,"  Cameron  said,  "  if  they  haven't  gone  to 
bed  by  eleven,  I'll  make  an  excuse  to  walk  to  the  village.  I'll 
say  I've  got  a  headache.  That  means  that  I  ought  to  get  to  your 
place  by  half-past  eleven.  I'll  hoot  as  usual.  You  say  yourself 
that  you  never  get  to  bed  before  twelve.  Or  one.  Please! 
Please !  "  His  tone  wheedled. 

"  Sure  you're  not  falling  in  love  with  me  ? "  Southward  asked, 
turning  the  glimmer  full  upon  him. 

"  Sure,"  Cameron  replied  promptly  and  with  conviction. 
"  Though  I'm  perfectly  willing  to  admit  that  I'm  only  one  jump 
this  side  of  it.  You  see,"  he  became  suddenly  serious,  "  I'm  crazy 
to  read  the  first  few  chapters  of  that  novel  to  you." 

"  All  right,"  Southward  shot  a  triumphant  smile  into  the  dark. 
"  If  I  don't  hear  your  whistle  at  half -past,  I'll  know  that  you're 
not  coming." 


146  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  You'll  hear  it  all  right,"  Cameron  promised.  "  Praises  be — 
they've  started  a  fire,"  he  added  after  a  long  silence. 

Southward  stopped  swimming  for  a  moment  and  lifted  herself 
half  out  of  the  water.  A  faint  under-surface  flutter  of  hands 
served  to  sustain  her. 

Floating,  his  hands  clasped  under  his  head,  Cameron  contem 
plated  her.  "  By  George,  I  never  saw  anything  like  you,"  he  said 
in  a  baffled  tone.  "  You're  like  a  duck.  You're  better  than  a  duck 
— you're  a  fish." 

The  spark  of  light  in  the  centre  of  the  grassy  camp-circle  had 
become  a  flash,  a  huge  high  sheaf  of  flame.  A  succession  of  sil 
houettes,  sharply-cut,  circled  about  it.  Their  shadows,  vague  but 
monstrous,  were  thrown  against  the  trees.  "  Some  fire !  "  South 
ward  commented,  "  what's  more  to  the  point,  they're  beginning  to 
set  the  table.  Dinner  will  taste  pretty  good  after  this  long  swim." 

They  gathered  about  the  big  deal  table  and  ate  everything  that 
Ling  brought  them.  The  dinner  was  a  noisy  and  successful  affair. 
Afterwards  they  drew  the  steamer-chairs  close  about  the  fire, 
smoked  and  talked  until  a  distant  red  glimmer  predicated  a  moon. 
Southward  sat  on  the  ground,  her  back  to  the  fire  drying  her  hair. 
Conversation  flew  briskly  all  the  time.  At  moments  it  pulled  away 
from,  the  present  and  made  little  dashing  forays  into  the  past. 
There  were  allusions  to  people  and  places  that  Southward  and 
Hester  did  not  know.  These  excursions  were  only  momentary, 
but  Southward  listened  to  them  with  a  keen  interest,  Hester  with 
her  shy  politeness.  At  times  they  glanced  off  in  a  consideration 
of  events  to  indulge  in  personalities.  Then  nicknames  came  out. 
Invidious  comparisons  were  made,  uncomplimentary  adjectives 
applied.  Smith  it  appeared  was  "  the  I.  W.  W.,"  Fearing  "  the 
Reformer,"  O'Reilly  "  the  Bull-Fighter,"  and  Cameron  "  the  Cow 
Boy." 

"  I  say,"  Morena  O'Reilly  burst  out,  "  let's  give  a  costume- 
dance  here  before  we  leave — invite  everybody." 

"  You're  on,"  agreed  Dwight.  "  We  can  hire  that  hall  in  the 
Library." 

"  Let's  get  up  one  of  our  deservedly  famous  groups,"  Mrs. 
Morrow  suggested. 

"  No,"  John  Smith  said  decisively.  "  That's  too  complicated 
down  here  where  it's  so  hard  to  get  materials.  And  then  it  puts 
it  up  to  everybody  so.  Let's  all  go  on  our  own.  In  New  York," 
he  went  on  to  explain  to  Hester,  "there  are  a  succession  of  cos 
tume-parties  every  winter.  We  always  go  in  a  group  in  uniform 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  147 

costumes.  One  year  we  went  to  the  Quatre-Arts  as  Norsemen — 
who  had  captured  a  Baccante.  We  entered,  the  four  of  us,  in 
bearskins,  winged  helmets,  and  bare  legs,  carrying  Azile  on  a 
shield.  She  wore  a  leopard  skin  with  grapes  in  her  hair.  She 
looked  wonderful.  It  really  was  an  extraordinary  picture.  And 
then  again  we  went  as  a  band  of  circus  performers,  another  time 
as  a  group  of  Pierrots  and  Pierrettes." 

"  That  was  in  the  spring,"  Fearing  interpolated,  "  and  the  ball 
was  held  in  a  hotel  in  lower  Fifth  Avenue.  We  all  dressed  at  a 
house  on  South  Washington  Square.  It  was  a  beautiful  soft  night 
and  the  trees  were  about  half-leafed.  The  electric  lights  were 
shining  through  them.  We  went  across  the  Square — running  and 
leaping,  playing  snap  the  whip — all  those  white  costumes,  picked 
with  black  in  the  midst  of  that  luminous  green — well,  it  was  one 
of  the  things  you  want  to  paint." 

"  It  must  have  been  wonderful,"  Hester  said.  "  We  have  had 
fancy-dress  parties  here  occasionally;  but  they  are  not  interesting. 
How  I  would  like  to  see  a  really  beautiful  masked  ball." 

"  Come  to  New  York  and  we'll  show  you  one,"  Fearing  offered. 

John  looked  at  Hester  for  an  instant  as  for  a  new  point  of  view. 

"You  ought  to  go  as "  He  jumped  to  his  feet  suddenly. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,  I  have  an  announcement  to  make."  He 
paused  and  smiled  the  whimsical  smile  that  was  so  typical  of  him 
in  moments  of  complete  relaxation.  "  And  that  is  that  we  have 
with  us  to-night  the  original  princess  of  all  the  fairy-tales  you 
read  when  you  were  children.  I'm  going  to  ask  Miss  Crowell — 
purely  in  the  interests  of  authenticity — to  take  down  her  hair." 

Hester  started.  She  stared  at  Smith  in  the  extreme  of  social 
terror.  She  turned  pale. 

"  She  won't  do  it ! "  Smith's  tone  continued  to  maintain  its 
light  note.  But  he  turned  his  eyes  from  Hester's  frightened  face 
and  that  lightness  was  now  obviously  a  little  forced.  "  Unless  her 
boss  commands  her.  I  appeal  to  Miss — to  Southward  for  help." 

Southward's  face  broke  into  its  most  mischievous  smile.  "  Sure, 
I'll  make  her !  "  she  asserted.  "  Stand  up,  Hester !  " 

"  Southward!  "  Hester  said.     "  You  know  I  couldn't." 

"  Yes,  you  can,"  Southward  urged,  inflexible  but  smiling.  "  My 
hair's  down,  isn't  it  ?  Stand  up !  " 

And  Hester,  a  cowed,  bowed,  trembling  figure,  stood  up.  South 
ward  placed  herself  on  one  side  and  Smith  on  the  other.  Smith 
reached  towards  one  of  the  big  silrer  hairpins;  but  before  he 
touched  it,  he  withdrew  his  hand.  "  You  take  it  down,  South 
ward." 


148  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Southward  removed  the  hairpins.  The  long  serpent  of  Hester's 
braid  slipped  to  the  ground.  "  I  guess  we'll  loosen  it,  John," 
Southward  said.  Hester  made  an  inarticulate  protest  but  South 
ward's  hurrying  fingers  fairly  flew,  tearing  the  strands  apart. 
Suddenly  she  released  the  whole  mass,  stepped  away.  Hester  stood 
in  the  firelight,  sheathed  in  a  glittering  golden  mail. 

Coos  of  admiration  came  from  the  two  women. 

"  Good  Lord,  that  is  wonderful !  "  O'Reilly  exclaimed  admiringly. 
He  had  apparently  all  the  Latin's  love  of  blond  hair.  He  arose 
and  walked  around  Hester.  Hester's  downcast  face  was  blushing 
now — but  she  smiled. 

"  Now  may  I  put  it  up  ? "  she  appealed  not  to  Southward  but  to 
John  Smith. 

"  Certainly  not,"  that  gentleman  denied  emphatically.  "  You're 
to  keep  it  down  all  the  rest  of  the  evening." 

Hester  sank  into  her  chair.  Southward  reached  over  her,  tied 
together  at  the  back  the  strands  that  would  have  fallen  into  her 
eyes. 

"  I  have  it,"  Mrs.  Morrow  said  in  a  tone  of  triumph.  "  Boadicea 
— whoever  she  was !  " 

"  No,"  differed  Morena,  "  Undine." 

"Should  you  ask  me?"  announced  Ripley  Fearing,  "Cordelia." 

"  Cordelia,  it  is,"  decided  John  Smith. 

"  I  wanted  to  get  that  awful  dress  covered  up,"  he  murmured 
under  cover  of  this  friendly  controversy,  to  Edith  Hale.  "  You  re 
member  I  wrote  you  about  meeting  her  in  the  woods  that  first  night. 
She  wore  a  yellow  mandarin's  coat  set  with  little  mirrors  and  her 
braid  all  but  dragged  on  the  ground.  It  was  marvellous  with  the 
background  of  trees  and  grass.  I  didn't  think  she  was  human.  The 
next  time  I  saw  her,  she  was  in  a  terrible  country-dress.  I  never 
was  so  disappointed  in  my  life.  You  could  do  some  missionary 
work  there,  Edith,  just  telling  her  what  to  wear." 

"  Well,  what  do  you  think  of  them  ? "  Southward  asked 
the  instant  they  gained  the  big  square  room  which  she  had  decided 
to  share  with  Hester. 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  Hester  said,  starting  to  unhook  her  dress, 
"  they're  the  most  interesting  people  I  ever  met  in  my  life.  It's 
awfully  hard  to  say  what  you  think  when  you're  thinking  so  many 
things  at  once.  I'm  almost  dazed  with  all  I've  listened  to.  What  is 
most  wonderful  to  me  is  the  ease  with  which  they  talk  to  each 
other — it  made  me  talk  too.  Why,  I  told  that  Mr.  Fearing  some 
thing  I'd  never  told  anybody.  And  you  know  how  quiet  I  always 


THE  LADY  OP  KINGDOMS  149 

am  in  company.  They  all  seem  to  understand  each  other  so — and 
to  love  each  other.  There  was  such  a  frankness — they  joke  so 
much." 

"  Yes,"  Southward  agreed.  But  it  was  evident  that  she  was  not 
interested  in  these  abstract  aspects  of  the  group.  "  What  do  you 
think  of  Mrs.  Morrow  ? "  she  demanded  abruptly.  She  seated  her 
self  on  the  bed  and  with  swift  strong  jerks  began  to  pull  at  the 
lacings  of  her  shoes. 

Hester  did  not  reply  for  a  moment.  She  had  finished  unhooking. 
Absently  she  met  her  own  absent  gaze  in  the  glass.  Then  she 
pulled  the  dress  off  over  her  head,  talking  through  its  folds  all 
the  time.  "  I  don't  know,"  she  admitted  in  a  baffled  tone. 
"  She  puzzles  me  as  much  as  any  human  being  I  ever  met. 
She  fascinates  me.  I  can't  take  my  eyes  off  her,  especially 
when  she's  dancing.  In  a  way  I  like  her.  But  I  found  myself 
sort  of — doubting  her  sincerity.  One  moment,  she  seemed  all 
surface  and  the  next  she  was  deep  as  the  bottomless  pond  in 
Wenett." 

"  She's  deep  all  right,"  Southward  agreed.  "  I  think  you've  got 
her  number  there.  But  she  is  fascinating.  And  a  pippin.  And 
the  most  wonderful  dancer  I  ever  saw  in  my  life."  Southward 
slipped  off  the  high  canopied  bed  where  she  had  been  sitting  and  in 
one  vigorous  pull  that  ripped  the  snappers  open,  and  in  another 
vigorous  fling  that  threw  it  off  on  to  the  floor,  rid  herself  of  her 
long,  slim  gown.  "  I  hate  her  though,"  she  added,  proceeding  at 
the  same  pace. 

"Hate  her!"  Hester  echoed,  stopping  to  stare.  "What  do  you 
mean  ?  What  did  she  do  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  Southward  answered.  Corsetless,  her  disrobing 
seemed  to  take  but  three  more  swift  movements.  Over  shoulders 
and  back  as  slim  and  warmly  brown  as  a  young  boy's,  she  slipped 
her  simple  square-necked  nightgown.  Her  bronzed  body  showed 
gold  through  its  filmy  folds. 

"  That's  the  funny  part  of  it.  She  didn't  do  anything.  And  she 
was  awfully  nice  to  me.  For  that  matter,  I  was  nice  to  her.  But 
I  hate  her  just  the  same.  And  she  hates  me  all  right."  A  faint 
glimmer  came  into  Southward's  eyes.  Moving  over  to  the  glass, 
she  pulled  the  pins  out  of  her  hair.  Released,  the  two  flat  wads 
at  the  side  turned  slowly  over  and  fell  onto  her  bare  shoulders — like 
the  flow  of  some  glistening  melted  metal. 

"  Oh,  you  lady  of  kingdoms,"  Hester  smiled  faintly,  "  how  it 
delights  you  to  have  a  female  hate  you !  " 

"  And  you — lady  of  kingdoms  yourself — how  it  delights  you  to 


150  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

have  one  love  you !  "  Southward  retorted.  "  You  liked  Miss  Hale. 
I  could  see  that." 

"I  thought  she  was  sweet,"  Hester  answered  with  enthusiasm. 
"And  I  felt  that  she  liked  me.  Anyway  she  was  awfully  kind. 
She's  very  beautiful,  don't  you  think  ? " 

"  Yes,"  Southward  said,  tearing  the  comb  through  her  unbrushed 
hair  until  it  hung  straight  and  satiny  to  her  waist.  "  And  yet 
not  exactly  beautiful  either.  She's  wonderfully  regular — as  far  as 
her  features  go — and  all  that.  But  there's  something  unhealthy 
about  her." 

"  She  doesn't  seem  robust,"  Hester  coincided.  "  Still  she  must 
have  what  is  beauty  for  me;  for  I  love  to  look  at  her." 

"  Oh,  by  the  way,"  Southward  burst  out,  braiding  her  hair  with 
lightning  swift  twists  of  her  efficient  fingers,  "  did  you  guess  the 
secret  of  Mrs.  Morrow's  name?" 

"  Her  name  ?  "  Hester  queried.    "  What  name  ?    Morrow  ?  " 

"  No.  Azile."  All  Southward's  humorous  malice  shone  in  her 
smile.  "  I  got  it  soon  after  I  first  heard  it.  As  sure  as  you're  sit 
ting  there,  she  was  christened  Eliza  and  changed  it  to  Azile. 
Dwight  told  me  she  had  a  rich  old  aunt  Eliza." 

"Do  you  really  think  so?  Eliza — Azile.  Well,  it  certainly 
sounds  that  way."  But  this  did  not  apparently  entertain  Hester 
as  much  as  it  did  Southward.  "  What  do  you  think  of  the  new 
men  ? "  she  interrogated  in  her  turn.  "  Mr.  Fearing  and  Mr. 
O'Reilly." 

"  I  like  them  both,"  Southward  answered,  "  although  I  suppose 
Mr.  O'Reilly  is  more  my  sort.  He's  a  good-looking  thing,  isn't 
he?" 

"  Stunning !  Every  girl  in  this  town  will  be  dead  in  love  with 
him  before  the  summer's  over — all  those  that  aren't  already  crazy 
about  Mr.  Cameron  or  Mr.  Smith.  Mr.  Fearing  reminded  me.  of 
what  Matt  must  have  been  when  he  was  young.  It  never  occurred 
to  me  to  think  of  Matt  as  a  young  man  before.  Some  day  I'm 
going  to  ask  him  to  get  out  all  the  daguerreotypes  and  tin-types 
he's  got  of  himself.  I'd  like  to  see  them." 

"  I  bet  he  was  a  looker,"  Southward  said  sleepily  from  the  bed 
into  which  she  had  just  hopped.  "  Say,  Hetter.  Those  two  women 
are  in  for  an  uncomfortable  time.  If  I  know  anything  at  all  about 
Cape  Cod  weather,  we're  going  to  get  a  Northeaster  by  about  to 
morrow  night." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

"LAND,  this  is  the  worst  tempest  we've  had  this  summer,"  re 
marked  Mrs.  Drake.  "  It's  an  August  twister.  They'll  be  sopping 
wet  when  they  git  here." 

"  It's  pretty  bad,"  Southward  admitted,  flying  into  the  dining- 
room  and  back.  "  But  they'll  be  dry  enough.  They  own  every 
possible  contrivance  for  keeping  out  the  cold  and  rain.  You  never 
saw  such  a  collection  of  rain-coats,  sport-coats,  automobile  wraps, 
and  steamer-rugs  in  your  life." 

"  Well,  all  I  know  is  I  wouldn't  take  a  two-mile  drive  in  this 
pelting  rain  for  a  farm  down  East,"  Mrs.  Drake  maintained. 

"  And  I'd  like  nothing  better  than  to  walk  that  distance  in  it," 
Southward  said.  "  I  love  to  be  out  in  a  storm  like  this." 

"  Well,  you  certainly  are  a  strange  girl,  Southward,"  her  grand' 
mother  rejoined.  "  You  do  like  the  queerest  things.  Hark !  Ain't 
that  wheels  I  hear?  Or  is  it  the  wind?  Land,  I  can't  tell." 

Southward  did  not  answer  immediately.  But  she  went  over  to 
the  door,  opened  it  a  crack  and  stood  with  her  head  bent.  It  was 
five  days  since  her  introduction  to  the  camp  on  Long  Pond;  and 
for  the  last  two  of  those  days  it  had  rained.  It  was  one  of  those 
storms  that  seem  like  an  attack  of  mania  on  nature's  part.  The 
soggy  earth  looked  dilapidated :  The  garden  lay  flat  as  though 
mown,  the  flowers  had  been  beaten  to  a  pulp.  The  wind  seemed  to 
be  blowing  from  every  direction  at  once.  It  formed  rallying-spots 
about  the  trees  and  tortured  them  out  of  shape,  pulling  branches 
from  their  sockets  and  stripping  them  of  their  leaves. 

Inside,  there  was  every  possible  contrast  of  warmth,  light,  seem- 
liness,  and  quiet.  A  fire  crackled  in  the  big  deep  old  fireplace 
in  Mrs.  Drake's  room.  All  the  bottles  had  disappeared  from  the 
stand  near  the  bed.  In  their  places  stood  a  pewter  bowl  of  golden 
marigolds  and  blue  bachelor-buttons,  a  high  slim  pitcher  of  Canton 
medallion  and  a  high  slim  goblet  of  old  cut  glass.  More  flowers 
filled  the  old  glasses  that  replaced  the  bottles  on  the  narrow  high 
mantel;  they  were  reflected  in  the  green-grey  depths  of  the  old 
mirror  above  them.  The  whole  lower  floor  had  been  put  to  careful 
rights.  The  parlour,  with  its  welter  of  black-walnut  furniture,  its 
orgy  of  hand-made  bric-a-brac,  had  been  dusted.  The  dining-room, 

151 


152  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

the  table  set  with  a  white  cloth  and  china  of  old-blue  India,  showed 
an  equally  fleckless  state. 

Mrs.  Drake,  like  a  freshly-coloured  mummy  wrapped  in  a  blue- 
cotton  kimono,  her  long  yellow  braids  pinned  flat  to  her  head, 
was  propped  high  in  bed.  She  wore  a  complete  set  of  jewelry  in 
black  enamel  with  pearls,  earrings,  a  chain  with  a  locket,  a  brooch, 
bracelets.  She  was  showing  what  for  her  was  a  high  degree  of 
excitement.  She  listened  again  to  the  uproar  outside. 

"I  guess  it's  only  the  storm,"  she  decided. 

"  Yes,"  Southward  agreed  with  an  accent  of  uncertainty.  "  No," 
she  added  decisively,  "  there's  the  carriage.  I  do  hope  Lysander'll 
ride  them  right  up  to  the  step.  Yes,  that's  what  he's  doing.  Trust 
Ly."  She  opened  the  door  again.  A  comber  of  wind  swept  through 
the  room,  curled  up  the  chimney,  sucking  with  it  a  spume  of 
sparks. 

"  We've  been  worried  about  you,"  she  called. 

Mrs.  Morrow's  exotic  face — its  sea-blondness  more  accented 
than  ever  by  the  moisture — peered  over  the  black  rubber  flap  of  the 
buggy. 

"  We're  all  right,"  she  called  cheerily.  The  carriage  stopped. 
Lysander  leaped  out  and  assisted  her  to  the  ground.  She  came 
running  to  the  door,  her  face  rosy  with  the  pelting  wet,  partially 
obscured  by  a  veil  of  green-gold  ringlets.  Lysander  lifted  Mrs. 
Boardman  out.  Both  women  wore  army-ponchos  and  big  army- 
hoods. 

"  Oh,  thank  you  so  much,  Lysander !  "  Southward  called.  "  Come 
in  and  get  warm,  won't  you  ? " 

"  Thanks !  Don't  know  but  what  I  will,"  Lysander  answered, 
peering  at  her  for  a  brief  instant  from  under  his  yellow  tarpaulin 
hat. 

"  Oh,  do ! "  Mrs.  Morrow  called  peremptorily,  turning  swiftly 
towards  him.  "  Oh,  do !  "  she  added  entreatingly,  smiling. 

"  All  right,"  Lysander  said.  He  took  off  his  tarpaulin  coat  just 
outside  the  door.  The  two  women  removed  their  ponchos.  They 
emerged  perfectly  dry  in  walking-suits  of  dark  silk. 

Mrs.  Drake's  head  did  not  move  in  answer  to  the  gracious  bows 
of  her  guests.  But,  "  I'm  glad  to  meet  you,"  she  said  cordially. 
"  You  must  be  chilled  to  the  bone  after  that  long  drive.  Set  over 
there  by  the  fire.  I  had  Southward  git  out  some  of  my  elderberry 
wine  for  you.  Be  you  wet?" 

"  Oh,  no,"  Mrs.  Boardman  responded  pleasantly.  "  We  bundled 
up  carefully."  Southward  took  the  ponchos  from  them,  handed 
them  to  Lysander  who  bore  them  with  an  accustomed  air  to  the 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  153 

kitchen;  then  she  poured  out  some  wine  from  an  old  glass  bottle 
that  stood  surrounded  with  goblets  on  a  painted  tin  tray. 

Mrs.  Boardman  took  one  of  the  comfortable  rockers  by  the  fire. 
She  put  her  hand  out  eagerly  for  one  of  the  glasses. 

"  That's  delicious,"  she  cooed,  sipping  delicately.  "  I  haven't 
had  any  elderberry  wine  since  I  was  a  girl."  But  her  eye  went 
first  to  the  bottle,  then  to  the  tray,  then  to  the  goblet  in  her 
hand. 

"  I  allus  put  it  up  myself  when  I  was  up  and  around  but  now 
Southward  she  does  it."  Mrs.  Drake  explained,  "  I  like  to  have  it 
handy  to  offer  folks.  Southward  makes  it  awful  tasty." 

Mrs.  Morrow  had  in  the  meantime  taken  the  other  chair  at  the 
fireplace.  She  tossed  off  the  elderberry  wine  at  a  gulp. 

"  What  darling  stuff !  "  she  commented.  "  I  never  tasted  it  be 
fore.  It's  a  doll's  dream  of  a  cocktail.  Oh,  here's  your  drink,  Mr. 
Manning."  She  arose  and  handed  Lysander  the  remaining  glass. 
Lysander's  face  was  as  pink  as  her  own;  his  blue  eyes  even 
more  brilliant,  his  hair  crisped  in  thick  golden  waves  all  over  his 
head.  Mrs.  Morrow  watched  him  as  he  threw  down  the  elder 
berry  wine. 

"  Why  don't  you  ever  come  over  to  the  camp  and  go  in  swim 
ming  with  us,  Mr.  Manning  ? "  she  asked. 

"  Thanks,  I  will  sometime,"  Lysander  assented.  "  Cameron 
seems  to  like  the  water — I  hear  he  goes  in  often  late  at  nights." 
His  steady  gaze  veered  for  a  moment  from  Mrs.  Morrow,  just 
touched  Southward's  immobile  face,  came  back  to  Mrs.  Morrow's 
sparkling  look. 

"  Heavens,  yes !  "  Mrs.  Morrow  said.  "  He  takes  a  swim  every 
night  just  as  the  rest  of  us  are  going  to  bed." 

"  Who  took  Miss  Hale  to  Hester's,  Ly  ? "  Southward  asked. 

"  Baxter,"  Lysander  answered "  Well,  I  must  be  going," 

he  concluded  abruptly.    "  Good-bye." 

Before  anybody  could  speak,  he  had  slipped  out  of  the  door. 
They  watched  him  leap  into  the  buggy.  In  another  instant,  the 
wheels  had  ceased  to  scrape  turning  round,  he  was  driving  rapidly 
away. 

"  What  a  stunning-looking  creature !  "  Mrs.  Morrow  commented. 
"  In  that  tarpaulin,  he  looks  really  heroic — a  knight  of  old  and 
that  sort  of  thing.  I  suppose  though  in  his  regular  dress-up 
clothes,  he's  a  scream." 

"  No,"  Southward  answered  decisively.  "  Lysander's  never 
smart,  but  he's  always  picturesque.  He  has  that  knack.  And  in 
his  working-clothes  he's  bully." 


154  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  Well,  I'm  quite  crazy  about  him,"  Mrs.  Morrow  admitted  with 
her  most  frivolous  accent. 

"  Well,  I'm  quite  crazy  about  this  glass,"  Mrs.  Boardman  inter 
rupted,  rising  to  deposit  it  on  the  tray.  "  I  suppose,"  she  went 
on  casually,  "that  your  house  is  just  full  of  such  lovely  old 
treasures." 

"  There's  a  lot  of  old  stuff  scattered  about,"  Mrs.  Drake 
answered.  "  It  used  to  be  all  up-attic  until  Southward  fixed  the 
garret  over.  Now  it's  all  down  on  the  next  floor.  Southward  and 
Hester  lugged  most  of  it  down  themselves — like  to  killed  them! 
I  don't  care  for  them  old  antiques  that  folks  is  so  crazy  about 
nowadays.  So  when  I  married  Nat,  I  jess  put  them  all  up-attic. 
I  like  furniture  to  be  bright  and  shiny  and  stylish." 

Mrs.  Boardman  smiled  her  mechanical  conversational  smile,  but 
Mrs.  Morrow  showed  an  appreciation  of  Mrs.  Drake's  taste  that 
was  genuinely  mirthful.  Southward  busied  herself  collecting  the 
goblets  on  the  tray.  Mrs.  Morrow  accompanied  her  to  the  kitchen. 

"  And  those  earrings — that  locket  and  bracelet  you're  wearing — 
they  must  be  very  old,"  Mrs.  Boardman  went  on.  "  They're  nice 
— very  nice — very  nice  indeed." 

"  Yes,  they  belonged  to  my  grandmother,"  Mrs.  Drake  said 
placidly.  "  Southward  thinks  they're  handsome  too.  She's  jess 
possessed  to  wear  them.  Allus  teasing  me  to  let  her.  But  I  tell 
her  black's  too  old  for  a  young  girl." 

"  Onyx  and  pearl,  are  they  not  ? "  Mrs.  Boardman  inquired. 

"Yes,  and  the  locket's  got  some  of  my  grandfather's  hair  in  it 
— they  cut  it  off  when  he  lay  in  his  casket.  The  bracelet's  got  a 
strand  of  my  mother's  baby-hair  and  my  sister  Sabry's  and  mine. 
Them  earrings  is  most  too  heavy.  I  don't  wear  them  very  often. 
I  declare  I  don't  know  how  folks  used  to  wear  the  clothes  they 
did." 

Mrs.  Boardman  had  by  this  time  turned  sideways  from  the 
fire.  The  light  poured  placatingly  over  her  correct  copper-plate 
profile  and  through  the  structure,  elaborately  puffed  and  plaited, 
of  her  grey  hair.  It  could  do  nothing  to  soften  the  expression 
of  the  lineless  mask  of  her  face  or  the  hard  enamel  of  her  keen 
grey  eyes.  Those  eyes  darted  quick  glances  everywhere — at  the 
beautiful  mantel,  the  windows  with  their  twenty-four  panes  of  old 
glass,  the  door  with  the  graceful  latch,  the  bull's-eye  glass  above. 
Her  glance  lingered  but  a  moment — and  without  change — when  it 
penetrated  the  jungle  of  atrocities  in  the  parlour — and  it  did  not 
return.  But  she  examined  critically  the  old  embroidered  hand- 
screen  that  she  pulled  finally  between  her  and  the  blaze. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  155 

"  What  a  wonderful  old  house !  "  she  said  when  Mrs.  Drake  ran 
down.  "How  I  envy  you!  Azile,"  she  commanded  her  daughter 
who  returned  with  Southward  at  this  moment,  "  do  look  at  this 
screen  and  that  old  pewter  candle-holder." 

"  I  am  looking  at  them,"  Azile  said  without  a  trace  of  expression 
in  her  voice,  "  and  dying  with  envy." 

"  Perhaps  you'll  show  us  some  of  what  your  grandmother  calls 
'the  old  stuff'  upstairs?"  Mrs.  Boardman  continued,  addressing 
Southward. 

"  I'll  take  you  all  over  the  house  to-morrow,"  Southward  offered, 
"  if  you  like.  The  light  is  too  bad  now.  I  hope  by  that  time 
it  will  be  pleasant  again." 

"  I  shall  be  delighted,"  Mrs.  Boardman  said  with  fervour. 

A  moment's  quiet  intervened. 

"  Be  all  those  puffs  your  own  hair  ? "  Mrs.  Drake  demanded 
suddenly,  directing  her  glass-marble  gaze  at  Mrs.  Boardman. 

"  Why,  grandmother! "  Southward  exclaimed  in  a  shocked  tone, 
casting  her  lashes  over  the  blue-and-black  glimmer  that  immedi 
ately  filled  her  eyes.  "  You  mustn't  ask  questions  like  that." 

"  Why,  it's  the  first  question  I've  asked,"  Mrs.  Drake  protested. 
"  And  Mrs.  Boardman's  been  asking  me  ever  so  many.  Haven't 
you  ?  "  She  appealed  to  her  guest  for  social  rehabilitation. 

"  I  certainly  have,"  that  lady  replied.  Her  tone  was  gallant, 
but  there  was  a  suspicion  of  a  flush  on  her  faded  skin.  "  And  as 
I  intend  to  ask  a  great  many  more,  I  shall  take  the  precaution  first 
of  answering  all  Mrs.  Drake's  questions.  No,  these  puffs  are  not 
my  own  hair." 

"  I  thought  they  wasn't,"  Mrs.  Drake  said  in  a  tone  that  betrayed 
gratification  at  her  own  perspicacity.  "  They're  handsome  though. 
There  was  a  time  after  I  had  typhoid  fever  when  I  was  a  young 
girl  that  my  hair  came  out  so  I  had  to  buy  some  false.  Well,  I 
never  had  anything  more  handy  than  that  switch.  I  took  an  awful 
lot  of  comfort  out  of  it.  I  could  do  it  in  my  lap  and  see  how  it 
looked,  fore  I  put  it  on.  Your  own  hair  never  does  go  up  so  good." 

Southward's  lashes  continued  to  conceal  accessions  of  the  blue- 
and-black  glimmer. 

"  You're  quite  right,"  Mrs.  Boardman  agreed.  She  had  regained 
her  aplomb.  "  Live  hair  is  always  out  of  order  but  dead  hair 
always  stays  put." 

"  I  was  almost  sorry  when  my  hair  began  to  grow  again,"  Mrs. 
Drake  said.  "  But,  land,  how  it  did  grow.  It  got  to  be  a  perfect 
nuisance.  My  sister  Sabry  bought  her  switch  when  she  was  forty. 
Her  hair  turned  early  but  mine  never  did.  She  put  on  eyeglasses 


156  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

when  she  was  forty-two.  She  had  all  her  teeth  pulled  when  she 
was  forty-five.  '  Thank  God,  that's  all  attended  to,'  she  used  to 
say.  '  With  spectacles,  a  good  switch,  and  a  false  set,  top  and  bot 
tom,  there  ain't  nothing  more  I  can  worry  about.'  Your  teeth  are 
beautiful  and  you  don't  wear  glasses,  do  you  ? " 

With  a  gracious  smile,  Mrs.  Boardman  held  up  the  lorgnette 
which  hung  on  a  golden  chain. 

"  I  don't  call  them  things  glasses,"  said  Mrs.  Drake.  "  You're 
an  awful  young-looking  woman,"  she  went  on  critically.  "  You 
don't  look  a  day  over  forty-five.  Yet  you  must  be  with  a  daughter 
like  that.  City-folks  is  allus  so  much  younger-looking  than 
country-folks/' 

"  Well,  that's  very  curious,"  Mrs.  Boardman  almost  beamed. 
"  I  was  going  to  say  the  same  thing  to  you.  Country  people  seem 
to  keep  the  colour  of  youth  so  much  longer  than  we  city- folk.  You 
have  a  wonderful  complexion,  Mrs.  Drake." 

"  Yes,"  Mrs.  Drake  agreed  tranquilly.  "  Ain't  I  ?  I've  allus 
had  a  good  skin.  So'd  my  sister  Sabry;  there  warn't  one  wrinkle 
on  her  face — nor  when  she  laid  in  her  casket  and  she  was  eighty- 
four.  I've  allus  had  a  great  deal  of  colour  too.  Jess  as  high,  no 
matter  if  I  was  sick.  When  I  was  a  young  girl,  I  did  so  want  to 
be  pale;  folks  allus  look  so  genteel  when  they're  pale.  Oh,  here 
you  be,  Nat?  I'll  make  you  acquainted  with  my  husband,  Mis' 
Boardman  and  Mis'  Morrow." 

The  ladies  bowed. 

Mr.  Drake  standing  in  the  doorway  showed  with  a  cruel  dis 
tinctness  the  angle  at  which  his  crippled  back  reduced  his  stature 
almost  to  half.  Yet  he  bowed  with  an  appropriate  ceremony  and 
with  a  touch  of  elegance. 

"  We're  glad  to  see  you,"  he  said  heartily.  "  We  worried  about 
you  all  last  evening.  And  when  the  rain  grew  into  a  tempest, 
mother  wanted  that  I  should  harness  up  and  go  over  and  get  you 
in  the  middle  of  the  night.  But  Southward,  she  said,  no.  She 
said  she  was  sure  you  wouldn't  want  to  be  routed  out  at  that  hour. 
Was  you  able  to  keep  dry  and  warm  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes.  All  day  long,  we  stayed  in  the  cabin.  When  your 
granddaughter  came  over  to  visit  us,  she  warned  Mr.  Smith  that 
the  chimney  needed  mending.  He  fixed  it  the  next  day  so,  fortu 
nately,  we  kept  warm  and  dry.  Only  the  cabin  was  so  small  and 
we  got  so  tired  after  a  while  of  playing  cards.  I  fancy  the  men 
were  relieved  enough  to  be  rid  of  us.  Certainly  I  was  glad  to  get 
under  a  roof.  Camping  in  rainy  weather  is  not  for  a  woman  of 
my  years." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  157 

Mrs.  Boardman  threw  a  gracious  smile  to  each  of  her  three 
hosts.  The  smile  showed  all  her  white  teeth,  which,  as  Mrs.  Drake 
had  observed,  were  in  a  singularly  good  state  of  preservation,  not 
withstanding  occasional  spatters  of  gold.  But  however  gracious, 
her  smile  never  changed  the  unwinking  hardness  of  her  bright 
eyes. 

"  You  must  be  as  hungry  as  a  bear  after  that  long  drive,"  Mrs. 
Drake  surmised. 

And  "Supper  'most  ready,  Charlotte?"  Mr.  Drake  called. 

"  In  a  moment,"  Charlotte's  husky  voice  answered.  "  I'll  ring 
the  bell  when." 

Both  ladies  protested  that  they  were  not  hungry,  but  they  arose 
with  alacrity  when  the  bell  sounded.  They  stood  the  shock  of 
Charlotte's  sinister  aspect  without  a  change  of  expression  nor  a 
lessening  of  the  high  cordial  note  that  they  had  maintained  ever 
since  their  arrival. 

"  Oh,  this  is  so  like  New  England,"  Mrs.  Boardman  said  en 
thusiastically  when  they  seated  themselves  at  the  table.  "  So 
much  food  and  such  delicious  food."  Her  eyes  went  from  the 
pot  of  beans  to  the  little  platter  that  held  a  cube  of  black  and 
wrinkled  pork,  to  the  generous  loaf  of  brown  bread,  the  corn,  all 
steaming,  to  the  dishes  of  piccalilli  and  preserve,  to  the  high  round 
layer-cake.  But  it  was  on  the  dishes,  not  the  food,  that  her  bright 
stare  rested  longest.  And  before  the  meal  was  over,  she  had  drawn 
from  Southward  an  account  of  all  the  things  in  the  house,  even  to 
the  three  barrels  of  Lowestoft  that  she  had  found  a  few  years 
before  in  the  cellar. 

Mrs.  Boardman's  conversation  continued  to  run  along  these 
lines  after  they  had  left  the  table.  She  drew  Southward  into  a 
discussion  of  her  neighbours ;  of  the  possibility  of  antique  treasure 
in  their  attics ;  she  suggested  tentatively  at  last  that  some  of  these 
things  might  be  purchased. 

Southward's  answers  had  been  for  the  most  part  mere  brief, 
non-committal  phrases.  At  this,  however,  she  said  in  a  casual 
tone: 

"I  don't  know  of  course.  But  I  fancy  they're  all  like  us — 
poor  as  Job's  turkey  but  as  unlikely  to  sell  anything  that  belonged 
in  the  family  as  their  own  arms  and  legs." 

Conversation  languished  temporarily.  But  before  the  evening 
had  passed,  Mrs.  Boardman  regained  her  hard  brightness.  At  an 
early  hour,  however,  she  admitted  to  fatigue  and  allowed  herself 
to  be  shown  to  her  bedroom. 

"  I  have  no  idea  of  going  to  bed  so  soon,"  Mrs.  Morrow  pro- 


158  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

tested  gaily.    And  indeed  she  sailed  upstairs  in  the  wake  of  South 
ward's  candle  with  Southward's  own  speed  and  ease. 

"  Good  gracious ! "  she  exclaimed,  stopping  short  as  Southward 
went  about  the  garret  lighting  up.  "  What  an  extraordinary  effect ! 
It's  like  a  stage-setting.  It's  a  cross  between  a  circus-tent  and  a 
museum.  How  did  you  girls  come  to  do  it  ? " 

"  Oh,  we  wanted  a  place  where  nobody  else  could  possibly  come. 
There  was  and  still  is  a  curious  sense  of  adventure  and  secrecy 
about  it." 

"  Oh !  "  Mrs.  Morrow  said,  "  Oh ! "  and  again  "  Oh !  It's  amaz 
ing.  It's  unbelievable.  How  I  wish  Mr.  Cameron  could  see  it." 

Southward  smiled  inscrutably  in  the  opposite  direction.  But 
without  comment  she  went  from  candle  to  lamp.  Furtively  she 
picked  up  the  revolver  from  the  centre-table  and  concealed  it  in  the 
drawer  of  the  secretary. 

Mrs.  Morrow  continued  to  stand  in  the  middle  of  the  room,  a 
pivoting  bunch  of  gasps  and  adjectives.  "My  dear,  I  don't  be 
lieve  you  realise  how  good  all  this  old  furniture  is.  Mother  can 
give  you  an  idea.  It's  not  only  fine  but  it's  rare." 

"  Yes,"  Southward  answered  coolly,  "  I  understand  a  little 
about  it.  Hester  and  I  have  read  some  of  the  books.  All  of  this 
is  not  colonial  Chippendale  and  Sheraton,  you  know.  It  was 
brought  from  England.  Here,  put  this  coat  on."  She  drew  a 
Chinese  sa'am  from  one  of  the  chairs.  "  There's  no  fire  here  and 
I'm  afraid  you'll  catch  cold."  She  herself  drew  on  the  tomato- 
coloured  prince's  coat. 

Mrs.  Morrow  pulled  on  the  sa'am.  Its  cool  sage-green,  meshed 
with  a  dim  figuring,  made  a  charming  contrast  with  her  pale-gold 
hair  and  her  pale-grey  eyes. 

"  These  Chinese  things  are  wonders,"  she  commented.  "  I  sup 
pose  you'll  wear  some  of  them  to  the  costume-party  ? " 

"  No,"  Southward  said,  "  I've  worn  them  so  much  here,  they'd 
be  no  novelty.  I'll  get  something  else." 

"  You  ought  to  wear  a  boy's  costume  of  some  sort,"  Mrs.  Morrow 
suggested.  "  You're  the  only  one  of  us  who  has  the  figure  for  it. 
I  do  so  wish  you  would  let  me  bring  Dwight  see  this  attic."  she 
went  on.  "  He's  so  susceptible  to  what  he  calls  the  '  spirit  of 
place.'  He  says  that  an  atmosphere  will  start  a  story  in  his  mind 
much  quicker  than  a  person  or  an  event.  I  think  this  would 
stimulate  him  enormously.  Edith  would  love  it  too." 

"  Miss  Hale  must  come  sometime,"  Southward  said  with  com 
posure.  "  Have  a  cigarette  ?  "  She  pushed  the  box  across  the  table 
with  one  hand  and  an  ash-tray  with  the  other.  Mrs.  Morrow 


THE  LADY  OP  KINGDOMS  159 

lighted  a  cigarette  at  one  of  the  candles,  puffed  a  moment  in 
silence,  her  eyes  meditative.  Southward  sat  in  her  favourite- 
position,  stretched  on  the  chaise-longue,  her  hands  clasped  at  the 
back  of  her  head.  She  manipulated  her  cigarette  with  her  lips. 

"  The  reason  it's  so  wonderful  as  a  bit  of  atmosphere,"  Mrs. 
Morrow  took  up  her  thesis  again,  "  is  that  it  has  a  real  flavour  of 
this  country.  I  suppose  I  appreciate  that  because  I've  lived  in  so 
many  countries." 

"Where  have  you  lived?"  Southward  asked  idly.  She  removed 
the  cigarette,  sent  a  flock  of  smoke-bubbles  curving  through  the 
air,  flicked  off  the  ash  with  a  tiny  vigorous  slap  of  her  little  finger. 

"  Lived !  "  Mrs.  Morrow  repeated  in  a  despairing  tone,  "  every 
where.  I've  been  somewhere  else  always,  London,  Paris,  the 
Riviera,  Florence,  Rome,  Staples,  Malta,  Cairo — more  in  Paris 
of  course  than  anywhere  else — except  New  York." 

"  How  does  New  York  compare  with  foreign  cities  ? " 

"  Pretty  well.  I'd  rather  live  in  New  York  than  any  other 
American  city,  although  of  course  San  Francisco  and  New 
Orleans  are  more  picturesque  and  Boston  has  more  taste.  It's  a 
pretty  good  American  version  of  Paris — commercialised  though." 

"  People  say,"  Southward  said,  drawing  up  to  the  table  and 
flicking  a  match  back  and  forth  over  its  surface,  "  that  you  can 
live  very  inexpensively  abroad.  You're  always  hearing  stories 
about  it.  Is  that  right  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes.  I  mean,  no.  What  I  really  do  mean  is  yes  and  no. 
It's  expensive  for  me  to  live  anywhere — especially  in  Paris.  But 
of  course  people  do  live  abroad  on  incredibly  small  sums,  especially 
on  the  Continent.  And  you  get  so  much  more  for  your  money. 
I  suppose  it's  a  matter  of  temperament  though." 

"  Oh ! "  This  was  an  exclamation,  as  though  out  of  a  careless 
talk  something  of  immediate  interest  had  come  to  Southward's 
mind.  "  Where  are  the  best  oculists — I  mean  for  anybody  who 
wanted  a  specialist?" 

"  Oh,  Germany  by  long  odds.  We're  up  on  the  matter  because 
mother  had  some  trouble  with  her  eyes  and  had  to  go  there." 

"  I  see."  Southward  openly  reflected  on  something  of  which  she 
did  not  speak.  "  It's  a  long  way  to  Germany,"  she  concluded,  half 
to  herself. 

"  By  the  way,  there's  a  big  German  specialist — Greinschmidt — 
coming  over  here  this  year." 

"Is  there?"  Southward  said.  "I  must  remember  that.  It's 
for  my  aunt  Miss  Howes." 

"  But  speaking  of  economy  on  the  Continent,"  Mrs.  Morrow  \vent 


160  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

on,  "  Mother  says '     Her  long  curling  lashes  dropped  over  her 

eyes  as  she  leaned  forward  to  put  her  cigarette-end  in  the  ash- 
receiver.  She  paused  an  instant  to  poke  the  fire  out.  And  in  that 
instant  her  lashes  concealed  the  fact  that  her  eyes  fixed  on  another 
cigarette-end  there.  It  bore  in  gold  letters  the  initials  D.  C. 
" — that  you  can  live  in  Italy  a  hundred  years  on  a  thousand 
dollars,"  she  concluded  without  a  change  of  expression.  "  But 
again  I  say,  it  all  depends  on  whether  you're  the  kind  of  person 
who  can  economise  or  not." 


CHAPTER  IX 

"  IT'S  so  comfortable  here,"  Edith  Hale  said,  her  melancholy 
smile  seeming  to  throw  a  faint  lambent  glow  upwards  on  her  still 
face.  "  And  so  restful  after  all  that  noise  and  confusion."  She 
looked  about  the  quiet  gentle  room  with  its  mid-Victorian  atmos 
phere  of  faded  pictures,  faded  furniture,  and  faded  bric-a-brac. 
"  I'm  glad  you  rescued  me." 

Mrs.  Crowell,  grimly  silent,  darning  steadily  by  the  light  of  the 
reading-lamp  on  the  big  centre-table,  spoke. 

"You'll  be  gladder  later,"  she  prophesied.  "I  think  the 
tempest'll  break  before  morning;  but  it's  going  to  be  worse  before 
it  gets  better."  Her  grey  glance  shot  across  the  table  and  leaped 
in  an  instant  over  Miss  Hale's  entire  figure.  It  began  with  her 
hair  carefully  coiled  and  rippled,  the  soft  gown  of  dull  Chinese 
silk,  the  bare  round  forearms  and  the  long  hands  lying  in  stat 
uesque  idleness  across  her  lap,  the  little  feet  lifting,  by  means  of 
a  footstool,  smart  patent-leather  shoes  with  brilliant  steel-buckles 
into  the  light. 

"  I'm  glad  too,"  Hester  said.  And  Hester  looked  glad.  Her 
gladness  filled  her  eyes  with  a  perpetual  glow;  it  curved  her  lips 
into  a  perpetual  smile.  A  faint  colour  played  like  a  flame  in  her 
cheek.  "  I  don't  think  I  could  have  slept  to-night,  thinking  of  you 
over  there.  The  men  will  be  all  right ;  they  can  sleep  in  the  cabin." 

"  Oh,  yes,"  Miss  Hale  agreed.  "  There's  no  necessity  of  bother 
ing  about  them.  Now  that  they've  got  us  off  their  hands,  they'll 
really  enjoy  the  storm.  Last  night,  Dwight,  who  stood  the  confine 
ment  with  less  patience  than  any  of  us,  actually  went  in  bathing." 

"  I  should  have  thought  he'd  had  a  chill,"  Mrs.  Crowell  declared. 

"  Anybody  else  would  have,"  Miss  Hale  agreed,  "  but  he  has  ex 
traordinary  vitality.  Then  he  goes  in  every  night.  In  fact  they 
all  have  remarkable  vitality.  John  has  the  most  wonderful 
physique  in  many  ways.  But  Dwight  is  a  born  athlete.  Oh,"  she 
gave  a  long  sigh  and  again  swept  her  glance  about  the  pleasant, 
gentle  room.  "  You  don't  know  how  glad  it  is  to  see  space  again 
— these  two  nights  sleeping  in  that  little  cabin — the  three  of  us 

— were  dreadful — were "  She  paused  and  a  sudden  violence 

rent  her  expression  " — horrible.  I'm  accustomed  to  read  late — 

161 


162  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

indeed  I  can  get  to  sleep  no  other  way — but  I  did  not  on  Mrs. 
Boardman's  account.  Oh,  those  long  hours  that  I  could  not  sleep 
— listening  to  the  melancholy  rain."  Her  look  grew  almost  wild. 
"  You  will  never  know  what  good  Samaritans  you  were  to  bring  me 
here."  She  glanced  towards  the  piano  whose  rectangular  black 
bulk  filled  one  corner  of  the  room.  "  Do  you  play,  Miss  Crowell  ?  " 

"  No,"  Hester  said  regretfully,  "  I  don't.  Mother  does  though. 
Mother  had  me  take  lessons  once — but  I  didn't  seem  to  get 
along " 

"  Hester  hasn't  any  gumption,"  Mrs.   Crowell  interposed. 

"  But  Mother  used  to  play  beautifully,"  Hester  went  on  hastily. 
"  She's  given  it  up  though." 

"  Oh,  that's  too  bad."  Miss  Hale  was  sympathetic.  She  looked 
questioningly  at  Mrs.  Crowell. 

Mrs.  Crowell  answered  the  look.  "  I  did  keep  it  up  at  first.  And 
then  housework  hardened  and  stiffened  my  hands — I  lost  my  touch. 
I  sort  of  got  out  of  the  way  of  it."  Her  marble  mask  suddenly 
broke:  light  ran  into  it;  fire.  "Do  you  play,  Miss  Hale?"  she 
asked  with  an  intensity  of  feeling  that  was  almost  fierce. 

"  Yes,"  Miss  Hale  answered  directly,  "  I  won't  say  that  I  play 
'  a  little '  for  I  think  that  I  play  very  well.  In  fact,  I  introduced 
the  subject  in  hopes  that  you'd  let  me  try  your  piano.  I  haven't 
seen  one  for  two  weeks  now." 

"  Oh,  do,"  Mrs.  Crowell  begged.  "  I  can't  remember  when  we've 
had  any  music  here.  When  was  it,  Hester  ? " 

Hester  had  already  jumped  to  her  feet,  was  opening  the  piano; 
"  I  was  trying  to  think.  Seems  to  me  nobody's  played  here  since 
Molly  Allen  brought  little  Jennie  over  last  spring.  Oh,  I'm  so 
glad  we're  going  to  have  some  music." 

Miss  Hale  seated  herself  on  the  stool,  ran  her  hands  up  and  down 
the  notes  with  a  practised  touch.  She  had  not  flattered  herself  in 
saying  that  she  played  well.  She  played  extraordinarily  well.  She 
was  in  fact  a  finished,  almost  a  distinguished  pianist.  Her  touch 
was  soft  and  liquid.  Hester  had  none  of  her  kind  of  music ;  and  so 
she  rambled  at  will  through  a  repertoire  that  was  prevailingly 
minor.  She  played  for  an  hour;  and  during  that  time  there  was 
not  another  sound  in  the  room.  Her  own  face  grew  rapt  as 
mentally  she  penetrated  further  and  further  into  that  country  of 
dreams  which  her  own  fingers  opened  for  her.  Hester  lay  back  in 
the  big  old  chair,  her  eyes  shut,  her  face  the  face  of  one  who 
sees  beyond  space  and  time.  Mrs.  Crowell  made  for  a  long  time 
a  pretence  of  keeping  up  her  work ;  then  gradually  she  slowed. 
Suddenly,  half-way  through  a  stitch,  her  needle  stopped.  She 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  163 

dropped  the  stocking  on  the  table.  She  did  not  lean  back  as 
Hester  did,  but  her  elbows  went  down  on  the  arm  of  her  chair 
and  her  forehead  dropped  into  the  palm  of  her  long  white  hand. 
They  sat  thus,  mother  and  daughter,  for  a  long,  long  time. 

"  Oh,  I  can't  tell  you  how  I've  enjoyed  that,"  Hester  said  with  a 
long  sigh  when  her  guest  finally  arose  from  the  piano.  "  It's 
been  Heaven." 

"  I  know,"  Miss  Hale  agreed,  "  I've  been  hungry  for  music  too 
many  times  not  to  understand.  I'm  coming  over  here  often." 

Mrs.  Crowell  said  nothing.  She  took  up  her  darning  again. 
Her  fingers  pulled  the  needle  out  of  the  uncompleted  stitch. 

"  Will  you  tell  me  when  you  want  to  go  to  bed  ? "  Hester  asked. 
"  You  must  be  very  tired." 

"  I  think  I'll  go  now,"  Miss  Hale  answered  frankly.  "  As  a  rule, 
it  doesn't  make  any  difference  when  I  go  to  bed.  I'm  rarely  drowsy 
and  as  I  said  I  always  have  to  read  myself  to  sleep  anyway.  But 
to-night  I  feel  really  tired — it's  those  two  nights  of  broken  rest,  I 
suppose." 

"You're  to  have  my  room,"  Hester  said  as  after  bidding  Mrs. 
Crowell  good  night  Miss  Hale  started  up  the  stairs. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  want  to  turn  you  out,"  Miss  Hale  protested. 

"  You're  not  doing  that  exactly,"  Hester  explained.  "  Mother 
never  sleeps  upstairs.  I  always  do.  Sometimes  I  sleep  in  one 
room,  sometimes  another.  It  really  makes  no  difference  to  me 
where  I  am.  This  way,  please." 

She  set  the  candle  down  on  the  dresser,  lighted  a  little  glass 
lamp  at  the  reading-stand :  "  I  always  read  at  night  too,  you  see." 

"  What  a  charming  room,"  Edith  Hale  commented,  gazing  about 
her.  "All  this  white  is  very  refreshing,  such  a —  Oh!"  The 
exclamation  was  so  sudden  and  deep-toned  that  it  made  Hester 
jump.  "  That  door  leads  to  a  sleeping-balcony,  doesn't  it "  There 
was  a  new  note  in  her  voice  and  a  strong  one — of  tremendous  relief. 

"  Oh,  yes.  There's  a  couch  out  there.  I  often  sleep  on  it  when 
the  weather's  fine." 

"  Good ! "  Again  there  was  emotion  in  Miss  Hale's  voice  : 
delight  this  time,  but  a  delight  almost  wild.  She  went  to  the 
door  and  pressed  her  face  against  the  glass  panel,  shading  her 
eyes  from  the  light.  "  It's  still  raining,"  she  sighed.  That  wild 
note  died  down.  Her  voice  went  dead. 

"  Yes."  Hester  listened.  "  But  I'm  sure  mother  is  right.  She 
has  a  sixth  sense  when  it  comes  to  weather.  This  shower  will 
be  bad,  but  it  will  be  the  clearing-up  one." 

"It's  so  romantic  to  sleep  out  of  doors,"  Miss  Hale  said  in  a 


164  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

disjointed  way.  It  was  evident  that  her  mind  was  not  on  what 
she  was  saying.  "  Especially  on  a  balcony.  That  always  makes  me 
think  of  Romeo  and  Juliet  and  mediaeval  romance — and  then  I 
love  a  door  in  a  chamber,  opening  on  the  world."  She  seemed  to 
catch  herself  up.  "  This  is  such  a  nice  white — this  room.  It 
doesn't  glare  at  all.  And  it's  so  simple  and  quaint.  It's  not  con 
ventional  exactly — it  has  a  kind  of  clean  femininity — I  don't  mean 

femininity  exactly — I  mean "  She  frowned  gently,  labouring 

with  her  phrases,  "  whatever  corresponds  to  virility.  John  would 
like  this  room." 

"Would  he?"  Hester  asked  in  a  surprised  voice.  She  herself 
looked  about  as  though  from  a  new  point  of  view.  "  It  is  simple  of 
course.  I  don't  like  things  you  know.  Southward  and  I  decided 
at  least  five  years  ago  that  the  trouble  with  women  is  that  they're 
too  much  tyrannised  over  by  things.  We  decided  to  free  ourselves. 
And  we've  done  it.  I  can  truly  say  that,  aside  from  some  pic 
tures,  pictures  of  people  of  course,  I  don't  care  for  any  one  thing 
more  than  for  any  other." 

"  How  wonderful !  "  commented  Edith  Hale.  She  sank  into  the 
low  rocker  and  stared  at  Hester,  her  brows  knit.  "  John  would 
love  that.  It's  the  doctrine  he's  always  preaching.  Now  I  love 
things.  They  have  to  be  beautiful  things  but,  granted  that,  I  feel 
that  they  have  every  claim  on  my  eternal  love  and  care.  My  home 
is  full  of  Lares  that  are  very  dear  to  me.  They're  necessary  to  my 
happiness.  It  makes  a  great  difference  to  me  what  surrounds  me. 
I  have  been  in  places  where  I  couldn't  sleep  because  the  things 
were  so  bad." 

"  Is  there  anything  I  can  do  for  you  ?  Anything  I  can  get  ? " 
Hester  asked. 

"  Nothing  except  a  book,"  Miss  Hale  answered.  "  But  I  see  there 
are  many  here." 

"  These  are  all  my  favourites,"  Hester  pointed  to  one  of  the 
shelves. 

Miss  Hale  moved  over  to  the  dresser  first.  Hester  watched  her 
remove  from  a  black-leather  bag  ivory  toilet-articles,  a  white 
nightgown  delicately  fine,  a  rose-coloured  negligee  exquisitely 
soft. 

"  Then  I'm  perfectly  comfy,"  Miss  Hale  announced.  "  Oh,  what 
a  love  of  a  baby ! "  She  took  up  one  of  the  pictures  from  the 
dresser.  "  And  what  a  lovely  girl !  "  She  took  up  another. 

"  The  girl  is — or  was — my  sister  Beatrice,"  Hester  answered 
steadily,  "  and  the  baby  is — or  was — her  little  daughter  Bee." 

"  They're  both  dead  ? "  Miss  Hale  questioned. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  165 

"  Three  years  ago,"  Hester  answered  briefly.  "  They  died  within 
a  week  of  each  other.  That  explains  my  mother." 

"It  would  explain  almost  anything,"  Miss  Hale  said.  She 
studied  the  pictures  carefully,  one  at  a  time.  Hester  stood  watch 
ing  her.  "We  live  through  these  things,"  was  Miss  Hale's  final 

comment.  "But  God  only  knows  how — or  why "  She  came 

to  Hester  immediately,  her  hand  outstretched.  "I  like  you,"  she 
said.  Then  as  though  following  a  sudden  impulse,  she  drew  Hester 
to  her  and  kissed  her.  Last,  as  though  trying  to  change  the  sub 
ject,  "  You'll  let  me  design  that  masquerade-costume  for  you, 
won't  you  ? " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  Hester  agreed,  "  gladly.  I'm  perfectly  helpless  myself, 
you  know." 

"  What  do  you  think  of  her,  mother  ? "  Hester  asked  a  moment 
later,  after  rejoining  Mrs.  Crowell  in  the  parlour. 

"  Very  pleasant  woman.  And  plays  beautifully.  Very  much  of 
a  lady.  Fine  figure.  Very  genteel.  Very  stylish.  How  old 
should  you  say  she  was,  Hester  ? "  Mrs.  Crowell's  voice  was 
unusually  mild. 

Hester's  brow  furrowed.  "  I  never  could  guess  ages,"  she  said 
in  a  perplexed  tone.  "  If  I  like  people,  they  seem  young.  IJ  I 
don't  like  them,  I  can't  tell  anything  about  them.  I  should  say 
she  was  getting  towards  thirty-five." 

"  She's  forty-five  if  she's  a  day,"  Mrs.  Crowell  took  it  up  crisply. 
"  Fifteen  years  older  than  you  at  least,  Hester,  and  she  looks 
five  years  younger.  That's  because  she's  taken  some  interest  in 
her  personal  appearance.  She  knows  how  to  walk  and  how  to  stand 
and  how  to  do  her  hair  and  above  all  how  to  dress.  For  pity's 
sake,  Hester,  don't  ever  sit  so  near  her  as  you  did  to-night.  She 
makes  you  look  like  a  great,  gawky,  lanky  old  maid." 

The  change  that  came  over  Hester  was  as  sudden  as  it  was 
sweeping.  It  was  as  though  her  mother's  cruel  talons  had  gone 
over  her  face,  clutching  from  it  every  soft  shine,  every  radiant 
bloom.  All  the  dull  shadows  leaped  into  prominence;  all  the 
purple  contours  accented  themselves.  She  visibly  wilted  in  her 
chair. 

"  Yes,  she's  cared-for  looking,"  Hester  said.  Her  voice  had  lost 
its  tone.  It  was  as  though  it  came  from  dead  lips. 

"  Well,  I'm  glad  you  realise  that.  Do  watch  her  while  she's  here 
and  see  how  she  does  it.  Perhaps  you  can  get  some  idea  of  how 
to  dress  from  her.  I  give  you  five  years  in  which  to  become  an  old 
woman  if  you  don't  begin  to  give  some  care  to  your  appearance. 
Good  Lord,  is  that  half -past  eleven  ?  I  guess  I'll  go  to  bed." 


166  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Her  white  slender  hands,  with  their  long  cruel  nails  and  their 
deft  accuracy  of  touch,  seized  the  stockings,  rolled  them  quickly, 
turned  them  into  square,  flat  pads.  She  stacked  these  carefully 
into  her  basket,  picked  it  up,  arose.  "  Good  night,"  she  dropped  with 
out  glancing  at  her  daughter. 

"  Good  night,  mother,"  Hester  answered  in  even  tones.  After 
Mrs.  Crowell's  step  had  stopped,  she  sat  for  a  long  while,  sagging 
and  expressionless,  her  eyes  gazing  straight  ahead. 

At  last,  she  arose  and  went  softly  upstairs  to  bed.  Miss  Hale's 
door  was  closed  but  light  streamed  in  a  long  yellow  cone  through 
the  key-hole.  That  light  was  still  there  when  Hester,  having  read 
herself  to  drowsiness,  put  out  the  lamp  in  her  own  room  and  shut 
the  door. 

Towards  morning,  Hester  jerked  upright  in  bed,  pulled  suddenly 
to  wakefulness  out  of  a  deep  sleep.  She  sat  mute  and  moveless, 
listening.  Then  she  raised  her  head  and  with  lips  closed  drew  in 
a  long  breath  like  an  animal  sensing  danger  through  his  nose.  The 
next  moment,  she  tumbled  out  of  bed  and  lighted  the  lamp.  Her 
fingers  shook.  For  an  instant  after  the  flame  steadied,  she  stood 
snuffing  the  air,  her  face  perplexed.  The  perplexity  gradually  died 
down.  She  threw  on  a  kimono,  seized  the  lamp  and  went  out  into 
the  hall.  The  door  of  Miss  Hale's  room  had  blown  open.  A 
terrific  gust  of  wind  came  through  it,  flared  an  instant  within  the 
chimney  of  the  lamp.  But  before  the  light  could  go  out,  Hester's 
ewift  fingers  had  turned  the  wick  down.  She  tiptoed  over  to 
Miss  Hale's  room. 

The  bed  was  empty.  It  had  been  occupied  though.  For  an 
instant  Hester  gazed  about  in  a  drowsy  perplexity  again.  That 
perplexity  changed  suddenly  to  alarm  and  then  as  suddenly  became 
(relief.  The  door  leading  to  the  piazza  swung  open  and  shut. 
Hester  stood  mute:  then  she  returned  to  her  room,  put  down  the 
lamp,  fumbled  under  the  pillow,  withdrew  her  electric  torch. 
Turning  the  light  on,  she  retraced  her  steps,  tiptoed  lightly  out  on 
the  balcony. 

The  rain  had  stopped.  The  sky  had  begun  to  clear,  but  the  wind 
still  mastered  the  earth.  Great  clouds  were  rushing  from  one 
horizon  to  the  other.  In  the  smooth  places  between,  single  stars 
— large,  solitary,  white — seemed  to  flare  in  the  tremendous  gust. 
But  even  in  the  second  that  Hester  stood  still,  the  wind  began  to 
go  down.  Hester  threw  the  light  gradually  in  the  direction  of 
the  couch. 

Edith  Hale  lay  there.    Her  fine,  brown-black  hair  WM  brushed 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  167 

straight  back  from  her  brow,  throwing  her  semi-classic  features 
into  a  high  relief.  A  thin  braid  trickled  over  one  shoulder,  lost 
itself  under  the  bedclothes.  No  longer  did  the  gentle  light  from 
her  eyes,  the  pretty  flicker  of  her  teeth,  help  with  their  illumina 
tion.  Her  lips  and  lids  lay  motionless,  uncoloured  like  carved  wax. 
At  that  moment,  she  not  only  looked  every  one  of  her  possible 
forty-five  years  but  she  looked  dead. 

Hester  moved  a  terrified  step  nearer,  then  stopped ;  obviously  her 
guest  was  breathing. 

Hester  returned  to  her  room.  For  a  long  time,  she  did  not 
sleep;  she  tossed  and  turned. 

"  Did  you  rest  well  ? "  Hester  asked  the  next  morning. 

Miss  Hale  was  as  carefully  dressed  as  ever  in  a  morning  gown 
of  a  cobweb  delicacy.  Her  hair  rippled  low  over  her  forehead; 
laces  softened  the  line  of  her  throat.  But  into  the  wax  of  her 
skin  no  colour  had  as  yet  crept;  her  lips  were  still  clay. 

"  Oh,  charmingly,"  she  answered.  "  I  read  for  a  time — for  a 

long  time — and  then — and  then — I  read "  She  paused.  Her 

eyes  wandered  vaguely  as  though  by  focusing  on  some  object 
they  could  help  her  mind  to  focus.  " — and  then  I  fell  asleep — 
fast  asleep — and  then — and  then — and  then  I  woke  up  and  thought 
of  the  sleeping-balcony.  That — that  allured  me — and  I  went  out 
there  and  spent — and  spent — and  spent  the  rest  of  the  night — the 
night.  It  was  wonderful — the  wildness  of  the  wind  and  sky " 

She  rambled  on  for  a  long  time. 

"  That's  nice,"  Hester  said  as  she  paused.  But  she  added 
nothing. 


CHAPTER  X 

MORENA  O'REILLY  presented  himself  at  Long  Lanes  the  first 
pleasant  afternoon  that  followed  the  big  storm.  Slim,  foreign- 
looking  white  flannels,  slim  white  shoes,  Panama  hat,  a  strange, 
foreign-looking  stick,  he  was  very  correct.  But  that  correctness 
seemed  only  to  accentuate  his  startling  good  looks. 

Southward  was  walking  up  and  down  between  her  flower-beds, 
critically  surveying  them,  when  he  arrived. 

"  I've  been  Baedekering  all  over  Shayneford  this  morning,  Miss 
Drake,"  he  said,  "but  thus  far  I've  seen  nothing  as  beautiful  as 
this.  It  ought  to  be  double-starred."  He  stopped  to  survey  the 
big  square  height  of  the  house  and  the  long  rectangular  sweep  of 
the  ell.  "  I  was  ordered  to  do  this,"  he  explained.  "  It's  all  that 
Dwight  and  John  prophesied." 

Southward  did  not  follow  his  glance.  "Yes,  I  suppose  it's 
beautiful."  Her  tone  seemed  to  resign  itself  to  boredom.  "  But 
I've  always  lived  here  and  I  can't  seem  to  get  it  from  your  point 
of  view  to  save  my  life." 

She  led  the  way  into  the  orchard  and  they  seated  themselves  in 
the  East  Indian  chairs  there.  Southward  talked,  with  her  char 
acteristic  composure,  of  many  things.  After  a  while,  she  served 
tea. 

"  Did  you  enjoy  your  visit  to  the  camp  ? "  O'Reilly  asked. 

"Enormously,"  Southward  replied. 

"  We're  rather  a  queer  gang  of  beggars  to  spring  on  the  stranger 
all  at  once,"  O'Reilly  v/ent  on.  "  Untamed  but  healthy.  Treat  us 
well  and  we  eat  from  your  hand.  And  merry  withal." 

"  I  found  you  so,"  Southward  admitted. 

"  This  is  my  first  excursion  into  New  England,"  O'Reilly  con 
tinued  fluently.  "  I'd  no  idea  it  was  like  this  and  especially  Cape 
Cod.  I  thought  that  Cape  Cod  was  all  sand.  I  did  not  know  you 
had  so  much  green  or  so  many  fresh-water  ponds." 

"  People  always  think  that  surprising,"  Southward  averred  in 
differently.  "  I  haven't  travelled  enough  to  know  much  about 
the  rest  of  the  world.  But  I'm  compelled  reluctantly  to  believe 
the  Cape  must  be  beautiful  so  many  sane  people  find  it  so." 

O'Reilly  smiled  a  little.    But  he  pursued  his  thesis. 

168 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  169 

u  It's  very  like  Etaples  in  France,  Le  Touquet,  and  all  the  region 
round  Boulogne.  That  country,  just  like  this,  attracts  artists  in 
colonies.  If  you  were  taken  up  at  this  moment  and  whirled  across 
the  world  and  set  down  there,  you  wouldn't  know  that  you  had 
left  the  Cape." 

"  That's  one  spot  then,"  Southward  said,  "  that  I'll  guarantee 
you  I'll  never  visit." 

O'Reilly  laughed  this  time.  And  his  mirth  prolonged  itself 
in  the  amused  stare  with  which  he  contemplated  her. 

"  Yes.  I  quite  understand  that.  I'd  never  want  to  see  the  place 
again  if  I  had  to  live  here  always." 

"  Where  have  you  lived  ? "  Southward  asked.  "  Are  you  an 
American  ? " 

"  In  a  manner  of  speaking,"  O'Reilly  answered,  "  Yes.  And 
in  a  manner  of  speaking,  no.  My  father  was  a  naturalised  Irish 
man,  my  mother  Spanish.  My  family  went  back  to  Europe  when 
I  was  sixteen.  I've  been  to  America  several  times  since.  After  a 
while  I  began  to  do  war-correspondence  and  since  then  I've  lived 
anywhere  or  nowhere.  It  looks  now  as  though  I  were  pegged 
down  here  for  a  while.  You  never  can  tell  though.  I've  the 
wandering  foot — horizon  fever — in  its  most  virulent  form  and  it's 
likely  to  break  out  any  time." 

Captain  Drake  emerged  from  the  house  and  came  through  the 
orchard.  "  Oh,  grandfather,"  Southward  called,  "Come  over  here! 
I  want  you  to  meet  Mr.  O'Reilly." 

"  You're  the  one  that's  been  such  a  traveller,"  Mr.  Drake  said 
as  he  shook  hands.  "  I  guess  more  than  likely  you  and  I  have  seen 
some  of  the  same  places  ? " 

"  Well,  let's  compare  notes,"  O'Reilly  suggested.  He  trans 
ferred  his  Celtic  twinkle  to  Mr.  Drake's  figure. 

In  the  comparison  process,  the  long  list  of  Mr.  Drake's  voyages' 
fitted  neatly  with  the  list,  somewhat  longer  but  not  so  varied,  of 
their  guest's  travels.  Mr.  Drake's  excursions  had  embraced  the 
ports  of  the  Mediterranean;  had  spread  all  over  the  Orient.  In 
his  own  estimation,  however  the  star  experience  had  been  a  single 
trip  into  the  Arctic  Circle.  That,  he  said,  he  had  always  wanted 
to  repeat. 

O'Reilly's  travels  had  been  confined  to  Southern  Europe  and 
Northern  Africa.  His  star  experience  had  been  an  excursion  into 
the  Sahara  desert.  He  talked  a  long  time  and  in  much  detail  of 
the  Balkan  States  to  which  his  war  divagations  had  several  times 
taken  him.  Mr.  Drake  listened,  absorbed. 

Southward  sat  silent  through  all  this.     But  she  gave  the  con- 


170  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

versation  the  attention  which  always  she  gave  to  concrete  facts. 
Only  when  the  discussion  tapered  towards  generalities,  condi 
tions  economic  and  commercial,  did  her  eyes  wander.  She  supple 
mented  her  grandfather's  suggestion  that  O'Reilly  stay  to  supper 
with  a  proper  degree  of  cordiality.  O'Reilly  accepted  with 
alacrity. 

"  All  right,"  Mr.  Drake  said  heartily.  "  You'll  excuse  me  now. 
I've  got  to  wash  up." 

"  Your  grandfather  is  an  extraordinary  man,"  O'Reilly  com 
mented,  watching  Mr.  Drake's  powerful  shamble  in  the  direction 
of  the  house. 

"  Yes,"  Southward  agreed.  "  He  always  impresses  people.  I 
have  a  great  admiration  for  him  and  a  great  friendship.  That's 
rather  unusual  I  think,  considering  that  we're  blood-relations  and 
that  I've  lived  in  the  house  with  him  all  my  life." 

"You're  a  Cape  Cod  girl?"  O'Reilly  asked. 

"  Yes,  and  my  mother  before  me  and  her  mother  before  her — 
way  back.  And  my  father's  people  have  always  lived  here." 

"  I  would  say  that  you  had  some  Latin  somewhere,"  O'Reilly 
went  on.  His  twinkle  disappeared.  He  fixed  her  thoughtfully 
while  he  spoke.  "  And  yet  there's  nothing  Gallic  or  Spanish  about 
you." 

"  No,  there's  no  Latin  blood  as  far  as  I  know  on  either  side,  only 
Scotch  and  English.  There's  always  been  a  family  rumour  of  an 
Indian  strain  somewhere  but  I  don't  know  how  or  when." 

"  That  would  account  for  it,"  O'Reilly  said  with  an  accent 
of  satisfaction.  He  continued  at  his  ease  to  study  her. 

"  Account  for  what  ? "  Southward  demanded. 

"  A  je  ne  sais  quoi.  ...  a  what  people  describe  as  '  a  certain 
something!'"  Morena  answered.  "I  don't  know  quite  what  it  is 
— a  sort  of  impassivity  and  yet  not  that  at  all.  It's  really  sur 
prising  in  such  a  pretty  girl.  Pardon  this  abruptness.  But  I 
suppose  you  know  you  are  a  pretty  girl." 

"  A  few  of  your  sex  have  told  me  so,"  Southward  said  with 
equanimity.  "  I'm  trying  my  best  to  believe  it." 

"  Oh,  you  believe  it  all  right,"  O'Reilly  accused  her.  "  Every 
expression,  every  movement,  every  gesture  betrays  the  confidence 
that  comes  from  knowing  that  you're  pretty." 

If  he  had  expected  to  embarrass  Southward,  be  must  have  been 
disappointed.  "  I'm  sorry  I  don't  conceal  it,"  was  Southward's 
composed  comment. 

They  talked  until  Charlotte  appeared  in  the  door  ringing  the 
b«lL 


171 

"  That  means  supper's  ready,"  Southward  explained.  "  I  hope 
I  remembered  to  break  it  to  you  that  it  is  supper  you  get,  not 
dinner." 

"Oh,  I'm  resigned  to  that,"  O'Keilly  assured  her.  "In  fact 
I  don't  care  what  it  is.  This  New  England  food  may  be  eccentric 
but  I  find  it  delicious.  What  are  you  going  to  have  to-night,  if 
it's  a  fair  question?" 

"  It  isn't,"  Southward  retorted.  "  Not  only  that,  but  it's  very 
bad  manners.  Nevertheless,  I'll  tell  you.  Tha  day  being  cool 
you're  going  to  have  boiled  dinner." 

"  Sounds  good  to  me,"  O'Reilly  said. 

The  downstairs  rooms  bore  their  accustomed  look  of  disorderly 
housekeeping,  crowded  and  careless  though  clean.  Southward 
however  maintained  her  usual  composure.  If  O'Reilly  was  struck 
with  the  contrast  of  the  inside  of  the  house  with  its  outside, 
his  manner  did  not  betray  it.  He  showed  much  social  perspicuity 
in  his  treatment  of  the  members  of  the  household.  At  the  table, 
he  continued  to  draw  Mr.  Drake  out  in  regard  to  past  voyages 
and  it  was  apparent  that  Mr.  Drake  enjoyed  the  experience  of  a 
new  audience.  Charlotte  did  not  speak,  but  she  listened  in  the  sad 
silence  typical  of  her  when  strangers  were  about.  Mr.  O'Reilly 
tried  again  and  again  to  edge  her  into  the  conversation,  but  it 
was  like  snaring  some  frightened  forest  creature.  He  was  much 
more  successful  with  Mrs.  Drake  when  later  they  repaired  to  that 
lady's  bedroom.  Mrs.  Drake  responded  with  her  usual  ready 
artlessness  to  all  his  overtures.  Sitting  up  in  bed  in  one  of  the 
brilliant  kimonos  which  she  reserved  for  company  use,  she  asked 
him  an  interminable  series  of  questions,  and  he  answered  them 
with  a  fullness  of  detail  that  satisfied  even  her.  A  twinkle  lay  in 
the  depths  of  his  deep-coloured  Irish  eyes,  a  half  smile  flickered 
under  the  jetty  moustache.  In  fact  here  the  Celt,  understanding, 
sympathetic,  kindly,  humorous,  seemed  uppermost.  After  a  while 
he  began  to  talk  about  his  own  experiences.  He  held  Mrs.  Drake 
and  Charlotte  spellbound. 

"I've  one  favour  to  ask  you,  Miss  Drake,"  he  interpolated  sud 
denly  at  the  end  of  a  story.  "  You  said  something  last  night 
about  letting  me  see  this  house.  I  would  be  obliged  if  you  would 
show  it  to  me.  It's  not  alone  because  it's  beautiful  that  it  interests 
me  .  .  .  it's  because  it's  characteristic." 

"  All  right,"  Southward  said.    "  I'll  have  to  get  a  lamp." 

She  took  him  through  the  disused  kitchen  of  the  main  house 
to  the  front  where  the  wide  hall  ran  between  pairs  of  spacious 
rooms  up  the  noble  stairway  to  the  first  floor  with  its  sextette  of 


172  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

high-studded  bedrooms,  up  another  flight  to  rooms  more  numerous 
but  smaller  and  lower. 

O'Reilly  stopped  everywhere  to  comment  on  the  fine  propor 
tions  of  rooms  and  halls,  the  beauty  of  the  old  furniture  that  filled 
them.  The  lower  floor  was  crammed  with  what  had  been  removed 
from  the  ell  to  make  way  for  Mrs.  Drake's  jig-sawed  treasures, 
a  confusion  of  old  mahogany,  old  walnut,  old  maple.  The 
upstairs  rooms  were  furnished  as  they  had  always  been;  but 
everything  was  scratched,  faded  dull,  tattered.  Southward  hesi 
tated  at  the  foot  of  the  garret  stairs.  And  then,  as  though  follow 
ing  a  second  impulse,  she  led  the  way  upward. 

The  garret  had  much  the  same  effect  on  O'Reilly  that  it  had 
had  on  Dwight.  He  stood  for  a  few  minutes  looking  about,  emit 
ting  comments  humorously  enthusiastic.  They  did  not  stay  there 
long  however,  only  time  for  him  to  smoke  the  cigarette  that 
Southward  offered.  She  sat  in  one  of  the  straight-backed  old 
chairs  and  her  guest  made  himself  comfortable  on  the  chaise- 
longue.  Some  strange  metamorphosis  had  worked  itself  in 
O'Reilly  during  their  excursion  through  the  silent  house.  The 
debonnair  Irishman  had  disappeared.  A  deep  glow  had  taken  the 
place  of  the  twinkle  in  his  eyes.  All  the  olive  values  in  his 
colouring  had  become  pronounced.  He  looked  at  Southward 
through  half-shut  lids.  His  teeth  gnawed  constantly  at  his  jetty 
moustache.  He  was  all  Spaniard. 

Their  conversation,  alone  here,  tended  inevitably  to  become 
more  personal,  and  O'Reilly  was  obviously  trying  by  hint,  sug 
gestion,  innuendo,  and  indirect  question  to  deepen  that  personal 
quality.  Southward  as  obviously  evaded  committing  herself  to  a 
closer  intimacy.  She  laughed  a  great  deal,  but  she  ignored  the 
hints,  eluded  the  suggestions,  evaded  the  innuendos,  answered  the 
questions  with  generalities.  Constantly  she  parried,  and  occasion 
ally  she  thrust.  Yet  suddenly  again  and  again,  in  the  midst  of 
this  fencing,  they  came  together  on  a  little  neutral  area  of  con 
geniality;  stood  there  a  moment  disarmed.  Insensibly  they  drifted 
towards  that  closer  understanding  which,  half  perhaps  in  the 
spirit  of  coquetry,  Southward  seemed  determined  to  avoid.  When 
she  suggested  that  they  return  to  the  lower  floor,  O'Reilly  pro 
tested  that  he  was  much  more  comfortable — and  happy — where  he 
was.  Southward's  reply  was  to  take  up  the  lamp. 

It  was  not  O'Reilly's  only  call.  He  came  again  and  again. 
Sometimes  getting  home  from  a  walk  with  Dwight,  Southward 
would  find  him  with  her  grandfather  engaged  in  an  interested  ex 
change  of  foreign  data;  or  in  her  grandmother's  room  answering 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  173 

innumerable  questions  fluently  and  in  detail.  In  the  course  of 
time,  Cameron,  Smith,  and  Fearing  came  often  enough  to  Long 
Lanes  to  justify  Mr.  Drake's  prophecy  that  they  would  soon  be 
"  underfoot "  there.  O'Reilly  remained  the  favourite  however, 
with  all  except  Charlotte.  In  her  case,  Smith  and  Fearing  made 
persistent  though  unobtrusive  effort  to  become  acquainted.  She 
never  fully  responded  to  their  overtures,  but  it  began  to  look  as 
though  any  time  she  might. 

Shayneford,  which  had  stood  with  unbroken  composure  the 
shocks  of  two  centuries  of  existence,  presented  its  characteristic 
quiet  to  the  invasion  of  the  New  York  people.  A  tide  of  gossip 
arose  of  course  and  that  tide  swelled  into  big  waves  of  conjecture 
and  broke  into  many  minor  currents  of  opinion;  but  this  was  all 
subterranean.  Superficially  the  village  had  no  appearance  of 
noting  the  arrival  of  the  strangers.  For  a  few  days,  it  achieved 
the  miracle  of  not  seeming  to  know  that  they  were  there.  But  in 
private  it  dissected  the  invaders  microscopically;  in  the  case  of 
the  women,  their  looks,  their  gowns,  their  manners;  in  that  of 
the  men,  their  occupation,  their  habits,  their  talk.  Shayneford 
would  have  been  astonished  to  hear  that  it  was  being  subjected  to 
analysis,  equally  ruthless  and  equally  searching.  "  Typically 
bourgeois,"  "  a  perfect  case  of  economic  determinism,"  "  sociologi 
cally  a  non-union  shop  "  were  phrases  that  would  sorely  have  puz 
zled  the  little  Cape  Cod  town.  However,  with  no  appearance  of 
trying  to  do  so,  the  aliens  soon  dominated  the  place. 

Mrs.  Boardman,  alone  of  them  all,  made  a  determined  effort 
to  get  into  the  village  life.  She  went  to  church  and  prayer- 
meeting  regularly.  The  first  week,  she  attended  a  village  "  so 
ciable"  and  a  village  concert.  She  talked  to  everybody.  She 
had  the  gift  of  getting  acquainted  quickly.  The  fruit  of  her 
efforts  soon  showed  itself.  She  was  invited  to  join  the  Whist 
Club;  its  members  entertained  her  in  their  homes.  She  visited 
other  houses;  made  excursions  far  afield;  had  recourse  finally  to 
an  automobile.  After  a  week,  Sim  Turner,  the  village  carpenter, 
began  to  receive  loads  of  heterogeneous  garret-loot.  He  crated 
it  all  and  sent  it  to  Mrs.  Boardman's  New  York  address. 

Just  as  Mrs.  Boardman  tried  to  get  into  Shayneford  life,  Miss 
Hale  tried  to  avoid  it.  Except  for  a  growing  intimacy  with 
Hester,  she  cultivated  seclusion.  She  was  far  from  an  active 
person.  Dancing,  she  really  loved;  swimming,  she  mildly  enjoyed; 
golf,  she  managed  to  endure ;  tennis,  she  definitely  disliked ;  walk 
ing,  she  never  did  if  she  could  help  it.  She  came  again  and  again 


174  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

to  the  Crowell  place,  though  always  in  an  automobile.  But  once 
there,  she  seemed  to  make  a  point  of  playing  the  piano  for  Mrs. 
Crowell.  Twice  a  week,  she  hired  a  motor  and  she  and  Hester 
went  for  all-day  drives  through  the  soft  Cape  Cod  country-side. 
At  first  Hester  used  to  point  out  houses  of  historic  interest;  but  it 
soon  appeared  that  Miss  Hale's  interest  in  them  was  tepid  unless 
they  happened  to  be  beautiful.  Only  one  thing  unfailingly  aroused 
enthusiasm — an  antique-shop.  They  spent  hours  poking  about  in 
the  miscellaneous  loot  of  the  country  dealer.  They  rarely  re 
turned  without  a  purchase  of  some  sort — a  bit  of  old  glass,  china, 
or  silver,  in  rare  cases  a  piece  of  old  furniture. 

Miss  Hale  had  reached  the  point  in  the  collection  of  old  things 
when  she  was  merely  matching  up  sets. 


CHAPTER  XI 

MRS.  MORROW  on  the  other  hand  seemed  to  absorb  Shayneford 
through  her  pores.  In  a  week,  she  knew  more  about  the  town 
than  all  the  other  members  of  her  party  put  together.  In  a  week, 
too,  her  daring  clothes,  her  enigmatic  complexion  (no  two  agreed 
as  to  what  was  art  and  how  much  nature),  her  eternal  cigarette, 
her  extraordinary  dancing,  her  shocking  and  fascinating  frank 
ness  were  the  focus  of  gossip  for  all  Shayneford.  She  was  as 
active  as  she  was  restless,  as  reckless  as  she  was  active,  and  as 
original  as  she  was  all  three.  She  turned  her  enchantments  loose 
with  an  equal  prodigality  on  Mrs.  Wallis  and  Mrs.  Crowcll.  the 
Reverend  Nehemiah  Dodge  and  Matthew  Hallowell.  Opinions  in 
regard  to  her  were  mixed  among  the  women;  the  men  of  course 
responded  whole-heartedly  and  at  once  to  her  seductive  quality. 
She  was  often  seen  riding  with  Dwight  Cameron  in  a  motor  foray 
on  neighbouring  towns,  and  sometimes  she  appeared  beside 
Lysander  in  his  rig.  The  second  week  she  established  at  the  camp 
a  series  of  informal  dances  which,  because  of  their  novelty  and 
charm,  became  the  most  popular  entertaining  in  town.  Disdaining 
the  little  rough  wooden  dance  platform  there,  she  got  the  men  first 
to  mow  the  grass  to  a  velvet  smoothness,  then  to  cover  it  with 
canvas.  She  sent  to  New  York  for  a  varied  and  high-coloured 
assortment  of  Chinese  lanterns;  and  to  Boston  for  marvellous  ices 
and  no  less  marvellous  cakes.  She  invited  everybody  in  Shayne 
ford  and  everybody  came — even  Hallowell.  Very  early  she 
announced  that  the  campers  would  give  a  costume-party  before 
they  left  and  already  the  town  had  begun  to  discuss  what  it  should 
wear. 

The  men  took  a  no  less  intimate  part  in  Shayneford  life.  They 
called  on  the  Shayneford  girls;  danced  with  them,  swam  with 
them;  played  golf,  tennis,  and  even  croquet  with  them.  But — and 
this  seemed  strange  to  Shayneford  youth — they  seemed  almost 
equally  interested  in  middle  age  and  even  old  age.  They  called 
on  the  elderly  women;  or  at  parties  talked  to  them  with  ap 
parently  as  much  interest  as  they  showed  in  the  village  belles. 
And  the  rumour  got  about  that  often,  returning  from  a  late 
festivity,  they  stopped  at  the  house  of  the  village-err  uk  Matthew 

175 


176  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Hallowell,  that  the  discussions  held  there  lasted  long  after  mid 
night.  Shayneford  would  have  been  astounded  to  hear  also  that, 
though  Southward  and  Hester  were  silent  enough  on  these  occa 
sions,  Mrs.  Morrow  and  Miss  Hale  entered  the  discussion  on 
equal  argumentative  terms  with  the  men — and  with  almost  an 
equal  equipment.  During  the  Russian  revolution,  Hallowell  had 
made  a  speech  in  Cooper  Union  which  Fearing  still  remembered. 
They  talked  much  of  Russia.  They  talked  of  labour  conditions 
in  America.  There  was  occasional  allusion  to  The  Rebellions  of 
the  Nineteenth  Century.  Hallowell  was  frank  and  crisp  with 
the  men,  punctiliously  courteous  with  the  women.  He  gave  Mrs. 
Boardman  and  Miss  Hale  much  advice  as  to  outlying  mines  of 
antique  treasure.  He  responded,  with  a  gallantry  which  had  an 
old-time  flavour  to  Mrs.  Morrow's  flirtatious  charges.  But  back 
of  the  amused  twinkle  in  his  frosty  blue  eyes,  he  seemed  to  study 
the  whole  crowd  as  closely  as  they  studied  Shayneford: 

Towards  the  end  of  the  third  week,  he  suggested  to  Southward 
and  Hester  that  they  use  his  house  for  return  hospitality  to  the 
New  York  people.  He  recalled  to  them  that  he  had  always  given 
a  party  for  them  once  during  the  summer  when  they  were  children ; 
he  would  like  to  do  it  again.  The  two  girls  accepted  his  offer ;  and 
succeeded  in  entertaining  almost  as  prettily  as  Mrs.  Morrow. 

Hester's  friendship  with  John  Smith  had  been  very  little  inter 
rupted  by  the  arrival  of  the  rest  of  his  party.  He  occasionally 
accompanied  Miss  Hale  on  the  antique-hunting  excursions  of 
which  Hester  was  also  a  member.  But  though  he  rarely  came  to 
call  alone,  he  was  very  likely  to  invite  Hester  for  a  stroll  if  they 
met  by  accident  on  the  street. 

On  one  such  occasion,  they  emerged  from  the  Post  Office  into 
the  drowsy  warmth  of  a  perfect  August  afternoon. 

"  Let's  walk  somewhere,"  Smith  suggested  suddenly.  "  I've  an 
hour  or  two  that  I'd  love  to  waste  on  the  bosky  dingle.  Are  you 
free?" 

"  Yes — oh,  yes,"  Hester  answered.  "  I'm  always  free.  I  should 
like  very  much  to  walk.  There's  a  pretty  little  lane  between  the 
upper  and  lower  road  that  perhaps  you've  never  seen." 

"Lead  me  to  it,"  Smith  ordered. 

It  was  a  pretty  road,  though  deeply  rutted  and  narrow.  It 
wound  between  forests  of  the  stumpy,  stunted  scrub  pines  which 
give  so  picturesque  an  accent  to  the  Cape  Cod  scenery.  Low  as 
they  were,  they  were  high  enough  to  darken  the  narrow  way.  On 
each  side  stretched  shadow-hung  areas,  carpeted  by  number- 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  177 

less  harvests  of  rusted  pine-needles  and  roofed  by  pine  boughs  so 
thickly  interwoven  that  only  a  rainbow  glint  here  and  there  showed 
the  play  of  the  sun  on  their  green  spires.  The  road  was  deserted; 
the  air  still;  the  warm  atmosphere  drowsily  sweet-smelling. 

"  How  wooing  this  all  is,"  Smith  commented.  "  It  is  curious 
how  certain  aspects  of  nature  induce  a  kind  of  melancholy,  a 
gentle  melancholy,  a  melancholy  that  soothes  rather  than  hurts. 
It's  like  the  Campagna  about  Rome.  You're  always  a  little  sad 
there — why,  you  don't  know — but  it's  such  a  charming  sadness 
that  you  come  back  again  and  again  to  it."  He  interrupted  him 
self  abruptly,  "  What  shall  we  talk  about,  Hester  ? " 

"  Tell  me  about  your  life,"  Hester  demanded  frankly.  "  I  don't 
know  anything  about  you,  you  know." 

He  told  her.  But  he  prefaced  the  narrative  with  the  remark 
that  there  was  very  little  to  tell  and  seemed  to  prove  it.  His  father 
and  mother  had  died  when  he  was  a  baby.  His  guardian,  a 
woman,  had  given  him  rather  a  curious  education.  She  had  put 
him  in  the  hands  of  a  succession  of  tutors.  Two  years,  when  he 
was  sixteen  and  seventeen,  he  had  spent  abroad.  On  his  return, 
he  had  gone  into  newspaper  work  in  New  York,  had  been  asso 
ciated  first  with  this  paper  and  then  with  that  until  he  had  de 
cided  to  join  the  staff  of  Tomorrow.  He  concluded  the  rather 
featureless  narrative  with  another  abrupt,  "Now  what  shall  we 
talk  about?" 

"  I'd  like  you  to  explain  a  lot  of  things  to  me,"  Hester  answered 
with  an  unexpected  promptness.  "  You  see,  most  of  the  time 
that  I  am  listening  to  discussion  between  the  men  of  your  party, 
I  am  quite  in  the  dark  in  regard  to  what  you're  saying.  Of 
course  I  know  very  little  about  the  social  movements  to  which 
you  constantly  refer,  but  aside  from  that,  I  don't  even  understand 
the  terms  you  use." 

"  For  instance  ?  "  Smith  queried. 

"  Well,  although  I  know  what  you  mean  when  you  say  A.  F. 
of  L.  or  I.  W.  W.,  I  don't  understand  what  you  mean  when  you 
talk  about  '  labour ' — as  though  it  were  apart  from  the  rest  of  the 
human  race.  And  although  I  understand — for  Matt  has  explained 
that  to  me — the  difference  between  a  socialist  and  an  anarchist — 
I  don't  at  all  understand  your  various  attitudes  towards  them. 
For  instance!  They  call  you  'the  I.  W.  W.'  Dwight  jokes  about 
it.  Edith  shudders  when  she  hears  the  words.  She  told  me  you 
took  her  to  an  I.  W.  W.  meeting  once  and  it  was  like  looking  at 
a  hall  full  of  mattoids.  I  can  understand  that  for  everybody  in 
Shaynef ord  hates  I.  W.  W.'s.  You  call  Mr.  Fearing  '  the  Re- 


178  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

former'  and  you  joke  him  about  it  as  though  it  were  rather  a 
contemptible  thing.  And  I  don't  understand  that.  I  have  always 
thought  a  reformer  a  noble  person.  I  don't  understand  the  rela 
tions  in  society  of  all  these  classes  to  each  other — labour — anar 
chists,  socialists,  reformers.  Do  you  think  you  could  make  it 
clear  to  me?  Please  use  words  of  one  syllable  as  you  would  to 
a  child." 

John  laughed.  "I'll  try.  It's  simple  enough.  But  before  I 
begin  my  little  spiel,  let  me  put  you  right  on  one  point.  I  mean 
in  regard  to  reform.  I  don't  particularly  care  for  reform — piffling 
reform — reform  that  isn't  basic,  I  mean.  And  I  do  joke  Rip  about 
being  a  reformer.  But  I've  nothing  but  admiration  for  Rip 
himself  and  for  the  work  he's  doing.  As  for  the  rest  of  it,  let 
me  see." 

He  fixed  an  absent  gaze  on  the  pine-needles  above  his  head. 
The  strident  acid  hum  of  some  tree-insect  filled  a  long  pause. 

"  Imagine,  Hester,"  he  said  finally,  "  this  world  in  which  we  live 
to  be  a  huge  dirty  old  toppling  house;  a  house  so  old  that  the 
walls  keep  splitting  into  great  rents  and  the  roof  keeps  cracking 
into  great  holes.  The  glass  in  the  windows  has  long  ago  fallen  out. 
There  are  two  stories  to  this  house  and  they  are  filled  with  people. 
The  upper  story  is  an  enormous  airy  hall.  In  that  hall  live  all 
those  who  possess  more  money  than  they  can  ever  possibly  earn, 
more  money  than  they  know  what  to  do  with — the  capitalist 
class,  in  short.  They  have  managed  by  means  of  their  wealth 
to  conceal  all  the  decay  and  destruction  that  is  going  on 
in  their  part  of  the  foul  old  house.  They  have  covered  the 
filthy  walls  with  pictures  and  statues.  They  have  concealed  the 
holes  in  the  windows  with  draperies  and  tapestries.  They  have 
covered  the  rents  in  the  ceiling  with  a  highly  decorated  roof. 
And  in  the  midst  of  all  this — of  decay  covered  with  beauty — they 
tall?  and  laugh  and  dine  and  wine  and  dance  and  entertain  each 
other  in  a  thousand  fantastic  and  extravagant  ways.  Now,  just 
below  this  great  hall  is  another  hall  of  exactly  the  same  size  but 
cut  up  into  a  multitude  of  small  rooms.  That  story  holds  the 
great  middle  class.  This  middle  class  spends  all  its  time  in 
mending  the  house,  patching  the  ceiling  so  that  it  will  not  drop 
down  on  them,  reinforcing  the  walls  so  that  they  will  not 
fall  in  on  them,  keeping  the  frame  together,  in  short,  only  by 
eternal  and  indefatigable  efforts.  Below  this  great  floor  with  its 
many  cut-up  rooms  is  the  cellar.  And  in  the  cellar,  in  dark 
and  muck,  live  the  labouring  class.  But  for  them,  the  house  would 
not  stand  at  all;  for  they  hold  the  whole  structure  on  their 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  179 

shoulders.  They  lie  in  the  mud  on  their  hands  and  knees,  their 
very  foreheads  pressed  into  the  slime.  Above  them,  the  middle 
class  in  a  kind  of  unctuous  complacency  go  on  mending  walls 
and  pillars,  never  once  glancing  down  to  see  what  is  the 
foundation  of  their  building.  And  above  the  middle  class 
the  capitalist  class  go  on  tinkering  with  beauty,  trying  to 
cover  up  horror,  regardless  of  the  two  classes  over  whose  heads 
they  dance  and  dine.  I  have  never  been  able  to  make  up  my 
mind  which  of  those  two  upper  floors  is  the  most  horrible.  At 
the  top  they  are  reckless  and  ruthless  at  worst;  care-free  and 
thoughtless  at  best.  On  the  middle  floor,  they  are  smug  and  self- 
satisfied.  They  demand  nothing  of  those  who  are  above;  they  give 
nothing  to  those  who  are  below.  But  that  cellar,  Hester,  is  a 
terrible  place." 

John's  eyes  came  from  the  pine-needles,  fixed  themselves  on 
Hester's  face.  But  it  was  apparent  they  did  not  see  her.  They 
looked  straight  through  her  to  their  vision. 

"  The  people  in  that  cellar  live  and  die  in  darkness  and  starva 
tion  and  suffocation  and  disease.  They  never  see  the  light.  They 
cannot  move.  It  looks  superficially  jet-black  there.  However,  it 
is  not  really  as  black  as  it  seems;  there  is  a  little  light.  For 
everywhere,  weaving  in  and  out  among  them,  go  men,  bearing  tiny 
lamps.  These  men  whisper  rebellion  into  the  ears  of  the  people 
who  hold  the  pillars  of  the  house  on  their  backs.  Some  of  the 
men  call  themselves  reformers.  Some  of  them  call  themselves 
socialists.  Some  of  them  call  themselves  anarchists.  And  their 
messages  vary.  But,  although  they  are  all  suggesting  different 
ways  of  doing  it,  and  some  of  them  perhaps  not  as  strongly 
as  others,  they  are  all  urging  these  bound  men  to  do  the 
same  thing.  And  that  is  to  rise  up  in  their  might,  throw  the 
pillars  of  the  tottering  old  house  off  their  shoulders  and  let  it 
crash  to  the  ground.  Some  day,  Hester,  they  will  do  that.  And 
you  will  see  a  race  of  creatures,  swart,  deformed,  half-blinded, 
emerging  into  the  sunlight  of  the  great  outside  world.  (  Working 
men  of  the  world  unite.  You  have  nothing  to  lose  but  your 
chains.'  I  would  rather  have  written  those  words  than  all  Shake 
speare." 

"  I  think  I  begin  to  understand,"  Hester  said  after  a  long  pause. 
"  And  of  course  you're  with —  She  did  not  finish  her  sentence 
but  when  John  completed  it  for  her  with  the  single  word,  quietly 
spoken,  "  labour,"  she  said  it  with  him.  The  silence  closed  in  on 
them  but  it  was  palpably  one  of  those  pregnant  silences  when 
two  people  pursue  the  same  line  of  thought;  a  silence  in  which 


180  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

everything  that  goes  on  in  one  mind  is  perfectly  clear  to  the 
other. 

"But  you  read,"  Hester  offered  tremulously  after  a  while,  "of 
violence — conspiracies — assassinations — dynamite.  Do  you  justify 
that?" 

"  Not  for  myself,"  John  answered  directly,  "  because  I  haven't 
experienced  the  terrific  living  conditions  which  bring  those  results. 
In  the  long  history  of  labour,  those  things  have  occasionally  hap 
pened — and  often  because  men  were  crazed.  They  will  happen 
again  inevitably  just  so  long  as  the  conditions  which  produce 
madness  in  men's  souls  continue  to  exist.  I  don't  excuse  or  justify 
it.  I  only  say  this,  Hester.  If  those  men  in  the  black  cellar  con 
spire  to  violence  I'm  with  them.  If  they  commit  dynamite  out 
rages,  I'm  with  them.  If  they  assassinate,.  I'm  with  them.  And 
the  more  they  conspire  and  assassinate  and  commit  dynamite  out 
rages "  John  paused.  His  voice  had  turned  stern,  had 

run  to  a  crescendo  of  bitterness ;  it  rang  now  as  though  his  words 
were  stones  dropped  into  a  pit  of  iron, — "  the  more  I'm  with  them." 
He  concluded  quietly. 

Again  encompassing  silence.  Hester  sighed.  "  Ah,"  she  ex 
claimed  bitterly.  "  The  world  has  always  been  like  this  and  I've 
never  suspected  it." 


CHAPTER  XII 

SOUTHWARD  was  dancing  with  Lysander.  As  partners,  they  were 
well  matched;  they  moved  with  an  effect  of  perfect  adjustment 
as  of  people  who  have  danced  much  together.  They  danced  until 
the  music  ceased;  continued  until  it  started  again;  kept  on 
through  two  brief  encores. 

"  Let's  go  outside,  Ly,"  Southward  said,  when  the  music  stopped 
for  the  last  time.  "  And  steal  a  fan  from  somewhere.  I'm  burst 
ing  with  the  heat." 

Picking  a  fan  from  one  of  the  seats,  Lysander  led  the  way 
outdoors  to  a  deserted  end  of  the  piazza.  Vines  made  dense 
shadow  there.  Southward  parted  the  leaves  and  ensconced  herself 
on  the  rail.  "  This  air  feels  good !  "  she  commented.  Lysander, 
fanning  her  vigorously,  stood  beside  her.  For  a  moment,  he  did 
not  speak.  He  gazed  down  into  her  moon-lit  face. 

"  Southward,  are  you  going  to  marry  that  man,  Cameron  ? "  he 
demanded  abruptly.  "  Of  course  I  realise  you've  been  seeing  a  lot 
of  him.  I  know  all  about  the  swimming  nights  in  Long  Pond. 
I  wondered." 

Southward  had  been  looking  absently  off  on  gleam  and  gloom. 
At  this  she  jumped  and  turned.  "  Lord  no,  Ly.  Mercy  no.  He 
hasn't  asked  me  in  the  first  place.  It  isn't  that  sort  of  thing. 
And  in  the  second  place,  I'm  not  going  to  marry  anybody.  You 
must  have  heard  me  say  that  a  hundred  times." 

"  Oh,  well,  all  girls  say  they  aren't  going  to  marry,"  Lysander 
commented.  "  It  seems  to  be  a  part  of  their  game.  A  fellow 
hears  that  all  the  time  but  he  soon  learns  not  to  put  any  stock 
in  it." 

"  Well,  of  all — Lysander,  do  you  mean  to  tell  me  you  don't  be 
lieve  it  when  I  say  it  ? " 

Southward's  incredulity  held  a  note  of  offended  pride. 

Lysander  started  to  speak,  hesitated,  reflected  an  instant;  then 
started  again.  "  I  do  and  I  don't,"  he  admitted  in  a  puzzled  tone. 
"  Of  course  you're  different  from  the  other  girls  in  Shayneford. 
I  know  that  well  enough.  Sometimes,  I  think  it's  not  because 
you're  less  of  a  woman  but  because  you're  more  of  one.  But  if 
that's  true,  you  don't  know  it  and  I  can't  prove  it.  I  think  you'll 
marry  sometime.  But  it'll  have  to  be  some  fellow  that's  strong 

181 


182  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

enough  to  beat  your  game.  I  can't  beat  it,  but  of  course  that 
doesn't  mean  that  there  aren't  men  who  can."  He  paused.  When 
he  spoke  though,  his  voice  had  not  lifted  above  or  sagged  below 
its  cool  level.  "  Just  the  same,  Southward,  I  want  you  to  under 
stand  this — you're  the  first  woman  I  ever  rea1  y  wanted  that  I 
couldn't  get." 

"  I  believe  that  easily  enough,"  Southward  said.  "  You're  all 
right,  Lysander.  I  don't  know  why  I'm  not  in  love  with  you," 
she  went  on  in  a  meditative  tone,  "  for  I  certainly  am  strong  for 
you.  It's  because  I  can't  fall  in  love — really  fall  in  love  with 
anybody,  I  guess.  I  like  you  better  than  any  other  man  in  Shayne- 
ford.  For  one  reason  you  play  fair."  She  glanced  off  for  a 
moment  from  the  main  line  of  her  argument  as  one  who  is  talking 
to  fill  in  time.  "  I  try  to  play  fair  with  men.  Sometimes,  I  guess, 
I  don't  succeed.  But  you  don't  know  how  many  of  them  haven't 
played  fair.  Not  that  I  cared.  I  just  noticed  it." 

"  Yes,"  Lysander  went  on,  almost  as  though  he  had  not  heard 
these  remarks,  as  though  straight  through  them  he  had  followed 
his  own  train  of  thought,  "  you'll  get  yours  sometime,  Southward. 
It's  just  come  to  me.  I  thought  you  were  immune  but  you  aren't. 
You'll  get  it  and  you'll  get  it  hard.  And  I  bet  I'd  be  just  damn 
fool  enough  to  be  sorry  for  you." 

"  Of  course  you  would,  Ly."  Southward  leaned  forward  to  pat 
his  shoulder  affectionately.  But  the  next  moment,  she  had 
stretched  upwards  in  a  yawn.  With  her  arms  still  raised  above 
her  head,  she  asked,  "  Do  you  think  I'm  pretty,  Lysander  ?  I 
don't  mean  according  to  Shayneford  standards:  I  mean  accord 
ing  to  city  standards.  You're  one  of  the  few  who'll  tell  me  the 
truth."  She  yawned  again.  "  I  mean  for  instance  how  do  I 
compare  with  Mrs.  Morrow  ? " 

"  Are  you  jealous  of  her  ? "  Lysander  thrust  suddenly.  And 
then  with  a  return  to  the  equability  with  which  he  had  conducted 
his  half  of  the  conversation,  "  She's  more  than  half  stuck  on 
Cameron  and  he's  more  than  a  quarter  stuck  on  her.  I  guess 
likely  that  was  on  the  road  to  being  a  crush  when  you  bust  it  up." 

"  No,  I'm  not  jealous  of  Mrs.  Morrow,  Ly,"  Southward  said,  the 
blue-and-black  shimmer  of  her  eyes  fronting  the  moonlight.  "  I 
just  mentioned  her  because  she  was  the  only  good-looking  city- 
woman  I  could  think  of.  I  might  have  just  as  well  said  Miss 
Hale— only " 

"  Oh,  well,  you  know  Miss  Hale  isn't  in  your  class  for  a 
moment.  Mrs.  Morrow  is.  And  the  best  dancer  I  ever  saw.  She 
beats  the  girls  out  on  the  Barbary  Coast.  And  then  besides — 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  183 

well,  she's  high-flyer  all  right.  But  of  course  you  qualify  from 
any  point  of  view.  Not  that  I  haven't  seen  plenty  of  pretty  women 
too,  through  the  West  and  in  California  in  particular.  But 
there's  something  about  you — maybe  it's  your  damned  indifference 
— you  certainly  do  things  to  a  man.  It  brings  out  the  very 
deuce  in  me." 

Southward's  eyes  absently  followed  the  moon  in  its  dipping 
flight  through  a  flock  of  clouds.  "  It's  queer,"  she  said  and  there 
was  a  shade  of  sympathy  in  her  voice.  She  dropped  that  sentence 
and  began  another,  "I  mean " 

"  Yes,"  Lysander's  interrupting  voice  lowered  until  it  became 
husky,  "  if  a  man  gets  you  into  his  system  once,  he's  going  to 
have  a  devil  of  a  time  getting  you  out." 

"  But  I  mean  particularly  city-women,"  Southward  began.  It 
was  as  though  she  were  not  hearing  Lysander  at  all. 

"  What  are  you  asking  me  all  this  for  ? "  A  furious  perplexity 
that  threatened  to  become  anger  came  into  Lysander's  voice. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know,"  Southward  said.  "  Idle  curiosity,  I  guess." 
She  seemed  to  prove  her  words  by  yawning  indifferently.  She 
arose  and  again  stretched. 

Lysander  jumped  to  his  feet.  His  arm  shot  out.  He  seized  her 
as  in  an  iron  clamp,  pulled  her  over  to  him.  Before  she  could 
stir,  he  kissed  her.  Then  his  grasp  loosened. 

Southward  did  not  struggle.  With  a  single  expert  movement, 
she  freed  herself  from  his  loose  clutch.  But  her  preoccupation 
had  vanished ;  her  eyes  were  flint.  "  Lysander,"  she  said,  "  don't." 
She  added,  "  Please."  But  her  please  was  a  command.  "  I  don't 
expect  you  to  slop  over  like  that." 

Lysander  folded  his  arms  over  his  chest.  By  a  process  of 
physical  pressure,  he  seemed  suddenly  to  inhibit  a  huge  rushing 
tide  of  emotion.  He  seated  himself.  "  I  don't  expect  to  slop  over 
myself,  Southward.  Excuse  me  this  time.  I  promise  you  it  will 
never  happen  again." 

"  That's  all  right,  Ly,"  Southward  said  comfortingly.  "  I  under 
stand.  But  be  sure  it  doesn't  happen  again.  I  like  you,  but  this 
sort  of  thing  actually  makes  me  sick.  I'm  not  mushy,  you  know." 
She  did  not  sit  down  however.  "  There,  the  music's  started  up." 
She  added  after  a  silence,  "  Let's  go  back." 

The  Library  in  which  all  the  Shayneford  dances  were  held  had 
been  made  over  from  an  old  farm  house  of  the  primitive  colonial 
type.  The  original  living-room,  into  which  adjacent  bedrooms 
had  been  thrown,  now  served  as  the  dance-hall.  Lo\r-ceilinged, 


184  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

wide-raftered,  it  still  retained  the  broad  smooth  floor-boards,  the 
noble  spacious  red-brick  fireplace  with  the  old  oven  at  one  side 
and  little  cupboards  above.  The  four  city-men  had  done  very 
well  with  their  decorations.  Boughs  outlined  a  tracery  of  green 
against  the  palely-papered  walls  and  vines  festooned  themselves 
between.  No  flowers  had  been  employed;  yet,  here  and  there 
flashed  colour;  autumn  stealing  on  ahead  of  her  appointed  time 
had  touched  the  maple  leaves  with  her  flaming  fingers.  Files  of 
little  fir-trees,  enclosing  a  chair  or  two,  made  tete-a-tete  retreats. 
In  one  of  these  sat  Hester  and  Ripley  Fearing. 

"  Everybody's  going  out  now,"  Fearing  said.  "  Let's  stay  here. 
It  will  be  quieter."  Then,  "What  a  picture!" 

"Yes,"  Hester  agreed.    "Don't  they  look  picturesque?" 

A  jam  of  colour  and  sparkle  had  caught  in  the  doorway.  The 
costumes  followed  the  grotesque  ideal  which  prevails  at  most 
rustic  affairs  of  the  sort.  In  the  main,  the  men  dressed  in  ac 
cordance  with  the  comic  supplement  version  of  the  farmer;  hats 
exaggeratedly  large  and  ragged,  overalls  too  tight  and  short; 
woollen  socks  too  thick;  ties  too  spectacular.  Farmers,  darkies, 
clowns  marked  the  limit  for  imagination  of  rustic  masculinity. 
Ly sander  wore  a  complete  cowboy  outfit — even  to  chaps.  With 
the  exception  of  the  city-men,  who  came  as  pirates,  he  was  the 
most  picturesque  male  figure  in  the  room.  The  girls  showed  al 
most  as  little  imagination,  but  the  results  were  more  pleasing.  If 
as  gipsies,  flower  girls,  and  Indian  maidens,  they  ran  to  an  over- 
conventional  display  of  unbound  hair  and  slender  ankles,  at 
least  they  brought  colour  and  grace  into  the  scheme.  With  this 
bromidic  picturesqueness,  Miss  Hale  a  Greek  vestal,  Hester  a 
Fra  Angelico  angel,  Mrs.  Morrow  an  Arabian  houri,  and  South 
ward  as  Robin  Hood  made  sulphitic  contrast. 

No  answer  came  from  Fearing.  Hester  looked  up  at  him.  He 
was  not  watching  the  dancers.  He  was  studying  the  mothers  who 
sat  on  settees  backed  up  to  the  wall.  "  I  was  thinking  of  them," 
he  said. 

Hester's  eye  ran  down  the  line;  Mrs.  Wallis,  hard,  bright-eyed, 
with  tiny  sharp  features,  the  half-grown,  spectacled  Esther  at  her 
side,  furtively  following  Pearl's  every  move;  Mrs.  Tubman  fatly 
complacent  over  King  Curtis's  devotion  to  Flora;  Mrs.  Peters 
surveying  over  her  nose  every  tete-a-tete  group,  the  tail  of  her 
eye  always  on  Pinkie;  Mrs.  Dodge,  always  watching  her  two 
grown  girls,  fat,  stumpy  Ella  at  her  right;  Sue-Salome  enjoying 
the  affair  with  the  bright-eyed  activity  of  a  child  and  snapping 
from  time  to  time  her  brisk  comments  down  the  line;  Libbie  at 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  185 

her  left,  earrings  in  a  perpetual  twinkle  as  she  matched  her 
sister's  remarks  with  phrases  quite  as  pungent;  and  so  on  and 
on,  grandmothers  and  mothers  and  aunts,  and  all  with  an  eye, 
wistful  or  appraising,  proud  or  jealous,  glued  to  the  panorama  of 
youth.  "  I  am  thinking  of  a  talk  I  had  yesterday  with  Hallowell," 
Fearing  went  on,  "  on  my  pet  hohby  '  human  waste.'  Hallowell's 
observations  on  the  subject  of  women  were  very  illuminating." 

"Yes,  he's  always  telling  Southward  and  me  that  we're  waste 
women,"  Hester  said. 

"  And  you  are ! "  Fearing  agreed  promptly.  He  brought  his 
teeth  together  with  a  ferocious  snap.  But  his  face  beamed  with 
kindness ;  his  dull  eyes  with  sympathy.  "  I  have  now  at  this 
minute — I  always  have  had — a  feeling  of  nausea  when  I  look  at  a 
group  of  average  middle-aged  women.  They  seem  so  useless  and 
ended,  so  fat  and  fatuous.  Take  that  line  over  there  for  instance ! 
They've  brought  a  family  of  children  into  the  world  and  raised 
them.  The  world  considers  that  they've  done  their  job  and  they 
think  so  too.  And  now  with  from  twenty  to  thirty  years  of  good 
work  still  in  them,  they're  just  sitting  in  the  gallery,  watching 
the  march  of  the  coming  generation,  waiting  for  their  grand 
children  to  appear  in  order  to  begin  the  same  job  over  again. 
They  live  most  of  the  last  part  of  their  life  plastered  to  a  peep 
hole.  Lord!" 

Hester's  brow  furrowed.  "  I  never  thought  of  it  in  that  light." 
She  shivered.  "  But  that — or  worse — is  what  lies  before  most 
of  us.  It  lies  before  me." 

"It  lies  before  you  if  you  deliberately  walk  into  it,"  Fearing 
warned.  "  But  don't  let  life  grind  you  like  that,  Hester.  If  I  have 
any  advice  to  give — which  to  my  credit  I  will  say  commonly  I 
haven't — it  is  just  that.  Don't  let  life  beat  you.  It  will  beat 
you  if  it  can.  It  won't  make  you,  unless  you  yourself  make  it 
make  you." 

Hester's  lids  drooped.  "  It's  beating  me  already,"  she  admitted, 
"  and  I  can't  help  it." 

"  You've  got  to  help  it,"  Fearing  persisted.  "  You  must  and 
you  must  do  it  alone.  Nobody  can  help  you  in  this.  It's  the  chal 
lenge  fate  has  thrown  to  you.  Remember  that;  it's  your  job." 
His  voice  was  almost  stern  now,  but  his  melancholy  hound's  eyes 
were  as  kind  as  ever. 

Hester  sighed  a  long  deep  sigh. 

"  Shall  we  dance  or  walk  or  just  sit  this  out,  Edith  ? "  John 
Smith  said  to  Edith  Hale. 


186  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"Let's  sit  it  out,"  Edith  answered  languidly.  "I  feel  tired. 
But  on  the  piazza,  please." 

"  All  right."  Smith  picked  up  the  shawl  of  embroidered  crepe 
which  she  dropped  as  she  arose  and  followed  her  slow  step. 

"  I  think  you'd  better  put  this  on,"  he  said  as  she  seated  her 
self.  He  held  the  shawl  for  her,  but  with  the  instinctive  con 
sciousness  of  her  appearance  that  never  left  her,  Edith  proceeded 
to  arrange  and  rearrange  it  after  he  had  placed  it  on  her 
shoulders. 

"  That's  charming,"  John  applauded  her  efforts.  And,  indeed, 
she  had  manipulated  the  thickly-embroidered,  fringed,  silky  square 
until  it  had  become  an  integral  part  of  her  white  Greek  costume 
with  its  flowing  draperies  and  the  three  bands  which  held  the 
classic  knot  of  her  hair.  "  You  are  wonderful  to-night,  Edith. 
And  you  look  well.  You  look  better  every  day." 

"  John,"  Edith  Hale  asked  directly,  ignoring  the  compliment, 
"  are  you  falling  in  love  with  Hester  Crowell  ? " 

John  laughed.  But  he  sobered  immediately.  "No,  Edith,"  he 
said,  "  I  assure  you  I'm  not  falling  in  love  with  anybody — and 
certainly  not  with  Hester  Crowell.  You  of  all  women  ought  to 
realise  that." 

"  Yes.  I  know  what  you're  going  to  say,"  Edith  interrupted 
with  a  weary  accent.  "  So  please  don't  say  it.  But  it  has  occurred 
to  me — it  looked — John,  I  believe  that  people  can  be  in  love 
without  knowing  it.  And  I  think  that's  what's  happened  to  you." 

"  I  don't  think  I  could  be  in  love  without  knowing  it,  any  more 
than  you,"  John  said.  "  We're  both  too  analytic  for  that,  too 
conscious  of  our  sensations,  too  modern  in  short.  No,  Edith, 
I'm  not  in  love  with  anybody  openly  or  secretly.  And  it  seems  to 
me  you  ought  to  know  that;  for,  if  I  were,  you'd  be  the  first  to 
hear  it." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  Edith  said  humbly  after  a  pause  in  which 
she  considered  this  explanation. 

"  You  like  Hester  ? "  John  questioned  after  a  pause,  in  which 
he  ignored  this  apology.  "  You've  said  so  from  the  beginning. 
But  you  really  do,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  I  love  her,"  Edith  answered  simply. 

"  She's  a  fine  creature,"  John  commented.  "  But  almost  broken 
on  the  wheel  of  life.  She's  one  of  those  grim,  implacable,  relent 
less — but  colourless — tragedies  that  only  New  England  seems  able 
to  produce." 

Edith  shuddered.  "  When  you  think  of  it  all — that  terrible 
mother — and  the  two  deaths — her  sister  and  the  little  girl — and  all 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  187 

her  years  stretching  before  her  teaching — teaching — teaching — oh, 
well  we  must  break  it  up.  I'm  going  to  get  her  on  to  New  York 
next  year  by  hook  or  crook." 

"  That's  the  thing  to  do,"  John  assented  quietly.  "  Change, 
complete  change,  a  lot  of  excitement — and  to  show  her  how  the 
world  is  waking  up,  how  differently  it  is  thinking  and  acting 
about  many  things,  how  unnecessary  all  her  self-sacrifice  is. 
Yes,  you  ought  to  do  that,  Edith." 

"  Dwight,"  Azile  Morrow  said,  "  how  are  you  getting  on  with 
that  new  novel  ?  Or  are  you  doing  anything  with  it  ? " 

They  were  dancing.  Cameron  was  looking  down  into  Azile's 
eyes  with  the  amusement  that  always  came  into  them  in  her 
presence.  He  kept  breaking  into  all  kinds  of  Terpsichorean  im 
provisations  to  which  his  partner,  floating  as  a  gossamer,  swaying 
as  a  reed,  responded  with  every  line  of  her  liquid  body. 

"No,  I  haven't  written  a  word  for  days.  Why  should  I,  Azile? 
This  is  my  vacation.  Can't  I  have  a  good  time  once  in  a  while? 
Especially  if  I  work  like  the  dickens  when  I  get  back  to  New 
York.  I  promise  to  be  good  then." 

"  You  promise." 

"  Oh,  sure  I've  got  to.  Wendell  and  Daly  are  yelling  for  a 
novel.  I  sent  them  an  outline  of  this  the  other  day  and  I  got 
an  enthusiastic  letter  from  them  yesterday.  Oh,  I  want  to  write 
it,  and  I  will — sure  as  shooting." 

"  I'm  going  to  have  a  writing-room  fixed  up  for  you  at  our 
place,"  Azile  declared,  "  so  that  you  can  hide  from  people. 
I'm  determined  that  you  shall  get  that  book  finished  this  winter. 
Don't  you  think  that  will  be  a  good  idea?" 

"  Great !  "  Cameron  replied.  But  his  tone  had  no  enthusiasm ; 
it  was  even  a  little  absent.  "  I  don't  know  how  much  I'll  be  in 
New  York  though." 

"  Why,  where  are  you  going  ? "  Azile  demanded.  "  This  is 
something  new,  isn't  it  ? " 

"  Oh,  no,"  Dwight  exclaimed.  "  I've  been  thinking  of  going 
away  for  quite  a  while.  I  haven't  any  special  plan.  I  don't  know 
that  the  Great  White  Way  is  just  the  spot  for  me.  Old  John 
says  that  it  isn't.  And  this  return  to  nature  has  done  me  so 
much  good  that  I've  even  thought  of  joining  the  governor  in 
New  Hampshire,  shutting  myself  up  and  going  to  it." 

"  Rot  I  "  Azile  protested  vigorously.  "  You'd  die  in  a  little 
country  hole  in  the  winter-time.  No  art-atmosphere,  no  shop- 
talk,  no  stimulation,  no,  what  you  yourself  call  '  the  spirit  of 


188  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

place.'  If  you  want  to  get  away,  why  don't  you  go  abroad  with 
mother  and  me?  That  will  give  you  change,  experience,  leisure 
and  a  new  kind  of  local  colour." 

"  Well,     you     see — that's     quite     a     different     proposition — I 

mean "  Dwight  with  the  air  of  a  man  who  hasn't  his  argument 

ready  perceptibly  floundered.  "  I  don't  exactly  want  to  get  out  of 
the  country.  I  might  at  any  time  have  to  go  back  to  the  news 
paper  game — oh,  well,  of  course  I'm  just  talking  now.  Nothing's 
settled.  I  have  no  plans  really.  I  don't  know  what  I'm  going 
to  do." 

The  music  started  after  another  interval.  Cameron  caught 
Southward  as  she  came  into  the  room  with  Lysander.  He  and 
Lysander  exchanged  a  civil  word  or, two;  then  Cameron  whirled 
her  away. 

They  had  undoubtedly  danced  many  times  together  since  that 
day  of  the  tea  at  the  camp.  They  were  not  so  graceful  as 
Morena  and  Mrs.  Morrow  who  were  now  floating  about  the  room 
in  a  welded  composition;  but  they  were  more  striking,  even 
though  they  were  more  athletic.  They  danced  with  the  arrogance 
which  was  equally  typical  of  them,  as  though  they  had  the 
room  to  themselves.  They  swooped  like  a  pair  of  hawks  pursuing 
prey  from  one  end  to  the  other  and  then,  like  a  pair  of  sea-gulls 
whose  outstretched  wings  rest  on  the  water,  drifted  back.  The 
other  dancers  gave  way,  following  them  covertly  with  their  eyes. 

"  Jiminy,  that  was  fun !  "  Cameron  exclaimed,  mopping  his  face 
after  the  second  encore.  "  But  let's  get  out  quick  before  I  melt 
and  flow  through  the  cracks  into  the  cellar.  What  do  you  say  to 
going  for  a  little  walk  where  we  can  talk  quietly  ? " 

"  All  right,"  Southward  agreed  demurely.    Her  eyes  glimmered. 

They  struck  off  into  the  tiny  path  which  led  from  the  piazza 
to  the  pond.  A  clearing  between  the  bushes  at  its  end  showed 
a  glimpse  of  water  burnished  under  the  moon.  Southward,  in  her 
Robin  Hood  costume  of  green  and  brown,  seated  herself  on  a  flat 
rock  in  the  grass,  clasped  her  hands  about  her  knees,  the  curled-up 
toes  of  her  shoes  close  together.  Dwight  placed  himself  a  little 
below  so  that  he  looked  up  into  her  face.  The  moon  was  still 
brilliant;  the  glimmer  had  not  left  her  eyes. 

"What  are  you  laughing  at?"  Dwight  demanded. 

"I  was  thinking  of  the  uncounted  hordes  who  have  begged 
me  during  an  intermission  to  come  where  we  could  '  talk  quietly.' 
Why  do  they  always  assume  that  I  want  to  'talk  quietly'?  I 
never  wanted  to  '  talk  quietly '  in  my  life." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  189 

"  They  don't,"  Dwight  explained.  "  They  want  to  do  the  talk 
ing." 

"  It  is  true,"  Southward  remarked  pensively,  "  that  I  have 
been  proposed  to  twice  on  this  very  rock." 

"  Well,  damn  you,"  Cameron  protested  cheerfully.  "  That  state 
ment  puts  a  fierce  crimp  in  the  soft  nothings  I  was  going  to 
whisper  in  your  shell-like  ear.  But  how  can  I  wax  sentimental 
with  the  ghosts  of  millions  of  rejected  lovers  standing  about  ? " 

"  The  answer  to  that  is  not  to  wax  sentimental  at  all,"  South 
ward  advised  promptly,  "  unless  you  want  to  bore  me." 

"  I  don't  want  to  do  that  of  course,"  Dwight  replied.  "  But 
I  will  tell  you  parenthetically — now  brace  yourself  for  a  shock 
— that  you  are  too  pretty  for  any  use." 

"  You  needn't  bother  to  tell  me,"  Southward  ordered  im 
pudently.  "  I  know  that  already.  Go  on !  " 

"  And  that  you  make  a  delicious  boy." 

"  I  know  that  too,"  Southward  asserted,  again  impudently. 
"  Haven't  you  anything  better  or  newer  ? " 

"  And  that — I'm  certainly  talking  under  difficulties  and  making 
no  headway  whatever — I  never  felt  so  much  like  losing  my  head 
for  a  moment." 

"  Go  on,"  Southward  urged,  still  impudently.  "  Lose  it !  You 
can  lose  your  head  and  your  heart  with  perfect  impunity.  For 
if  I  find  them,  I'll  give  them  back  to  you  instanter — especially 
the  heart." 

"It's  great  to  hear  you  say  that,"  her  companion  murmured, 
his  eyes  sparkling  with  mirth,  "  and  awfully  reassuring  to  a 
man  who's  afraid  of  matrimony  and  yet  dying  to  singe  his 
wings  a  little.  It's  like  wearing  a  life-preserver  when  you're 
swimming  in  deep  water.  You  can  afford  to  have  cramp."  He 
paused  and  his  manner  changed.  The  analytic  look  came  into 
his  eyes.  "  You  really  don't  want  to  marry,  do  you  ? " 

"  You  bet  I  don't,"  Southward  protested  with  fervour. 

"  No  more  do  I.  But  let's  waive  that.  Oh,  by  the  way,  tell 
me  what  do  you  think  of  the  first  chapters  of  the  novel  ? " 

"  Well,"  Southward  said,  "  I  liked  them.  They  interested  me. 
And  yet  I  had  a  feeling  that  you  hadn't  quite  got  the  place. 
Of  course,  I  know  it  so  well — but  then  I  hate  love-stories  any 
way.  I'm  no  judge  of  such  things.  I'm  only  interested  in 
facts.  And  I  hate  love-making  everywhere.  It  bores  me  in 
books  and  makes  me  tired  in  plays.  Still,  of  course  you  held  my 
attention.  I  could  point  out  to  you  if  you'd  like  places  where 
the  talk  seems  to  be  more  western  than  Yankee " 


190  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  I'd  like  to  have  you  do  that,"  Cameron  said.  His  manner 
was  a  little  crestfallen.  He  seemed  to  wait  for  Southward  to  go 
on ;  but  she  added  nothing.  "  Oh,  there's  another  important 

thing "  he  continued.  "  Aside  from  calling  your  attention  to 

the  fact  that  this  is  our  last  night  here,  I  want  to  know  if  I 
can  come  over  to  the  garret  after  this  shindig  is  over  ? " 

"  That  will  be  pretty  late,  won't  it  ? " 

"It's  to  stop  promptly  at  twelve — they  stipulated  that.  Of 
course  I'll  take  you  home." 

"  No,"  Southward  interrupted,  "  Mr.  O'Keilly  has  already  of 
fered  to  do  that  and  I  said  he  could." 

"  Damn !  "  Dwight  murmured.  "  I  wish  Morena'd  keep  out  of 
this.  Well,  I'll  take  some  other  girl  home.  John  will  undoubtedly 
look  after  Hester.  Say,  by  the  way,  do  you  think  that's  a  case?" 

"  Not  on  Hester's  side,"  Southward  said  with  promptness. 

"  Naturally,"  Dwight's  riposte  was  as  quick  as  her  own,  "  I'm 
not  discussing  that  side  of  it.  I  mean  old  John." 

"  No,  I  don't  think  so,"  Southward  decided  slowly,  "  if  you  ask 
me,  I  should  say  that  Mr.  Smith  was  immune  to  love." 

"  Well,  Rip'll  take  Azile  and  Edith  home.  I'll  wait  around  a 
while  and  then  come  to  Long  Lanes.  Two  hoots  as  usual?" 

"All  right,"  Southward  permitted  lazily. 

"  The  question  to  be  discussed  now — and  then "  he  went  on, 

"  is  whether  you're  coming  on  to  New  York." 

"  I  can  answer  now — and  then "  Southward  said  with  a 

sudden  determined  hardening  of  her  face,  "  that  I  am  coming. 
I've  made  up  my  mind  to  do  that.  I  don't  see  how  it's  to  be 
managed  yet  of  course,  but  I  shall  accomplish  it  because  I've 
always  accomplished  anything  that  I've  set  myself  to  do.  It  may 
mean  that  I'll  have  to  start  Friday  night  and  return  Sunday,  but 
I'll  do  it." 

"  I  believe  you."  Cameron's  eyes  grew  more  keenly  analytic. 
He  looked  at  Southward  as  though  she  were  a  new  object  that 
he  had  just  discovered  in  the  landscape.  "  I  believe  you,"  he 
repeated.  "  Say,  do  I  get  the  New  York  rights  to  you  ? "  he 
asked  suddenly. 

"Don't  understand,"  objected  Southward.  She  leaned  down, 
plucked  a  blade  of  grass,  placed  it  to  her  lips.  The  tense  silence 
broke  suddenly  in  an  unearthly  wail. 

"  I  mean — well,  I  want  to  have  the  first  chance  to  take  you 
about  in  New  York.  I  want  it  to  be  understood  that  you're  my 
guest  in  a  manner  of  speaking.  That  system  protects  you  from 
the  other  men." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  191 

"  But  suppose  I  don't  want  to  be  protected  from  the  other 
men,"  Southward  suggested  shrewdly.  "  Besides,  if  I  want  pro 
tection  from  men,  the  easiest  thing  I  do  is  to  provide  it  for 
myself." 

"You  may  find  it  different  in  New  York.  You're  too  pretty 
and  too  original.  I  mean  there'll  be  a  dozen  men  in  our  crowd 
who'll  try  to  monopolise  you.  Then  again,  it  protects  me  from 
the  women  who  are  drifting  too.  You  see  we're  not  really  bound 
— it  doesn't  prevent  us  from  having  a  good  time  with  other 
people  and  yet  we  can  use  each  other  as  a  shield  against  them 
if  they  get  troublesome." 

Southward's  eyelashes  shot  downward.  The  glimmer  faded 
slowly  from  her  eyes;  they  grew  as  hard  as  flints.  Then  the  flint 
softened;  the  glimmer  came  back.  She  produced  before  speaking 
three  long  deliberate  wails  from  the  grass-blade.  "  Good  Busi 
ness  ! "  she  commented.  "  I'm  for  it.  Now,  see  if  I  understand. 
Ostensibly  we're  on  the  verge  of  getting  engaged.  That  means 
that  you  can  send  out  an  alarm  any  time  trouble  threatens  for 
you  or  I  any  time  it  threatens  for  me.  And  yet  we  can  flirt 
on  the  side  just  as  much  as  we  want.  Is  that  it?" 

Dwight  stirred  uneasily.  It  was  as  though  his  plan  seemed  a 
little  more  cold-blooded  when  Southward  outlined  it.  "  Yes,  that's 
it,"  he  admitted  finally.  But  apparently  it  was  an  admission  that 
he  did  not  entirely  enjoy. 

Southward  considered  this,  alternately  blowing  wild  maniacal 
complaints  from  grass-blades  and  gazing  mutely  up  at  him.  But 
all  the  time,  the  glimmer  in  her  eyes  grew  brighter  and  brighter 
until  it  seemed  to  splash  through  her  eyelashes. 

"  All  right,"  she  said,  "  I  agree.  We've  entered  into  a  near 
engagement."  She  arose.  Cameron  jumped  to  his  feet  too. 
They  stood  close. 

Cameron  looked  straight  down  into  her  eyes.  "All  right,"  he 
said.  "  Let's  seal  it."  He  suddenly  reached  forward  and  pulled 
her  into  his  arms.  He  dropped  his  head.  But  before  his  lips 
touched  hers,  Southward  wrenched  herself  away.  Her  face 
flushed  with  anger.  She  panted.  "Don't  you  ever  do  such — 
that — again."  Her  teeth  gritted.  "  Our  agreement  doesn't  cover 
— this  sort  of  thing,  remember." 


CHAPTEK  XIII 

"  THIS  is  our  dance,  Angel,"  Smith  said  to  Hester.  "  Would 
you  in  its  place  prefer  to  walk  the  celestial  fields  with  me  ? " 

"  I  would  much  prefer  that,"  Hester  answered. 

"  Very  well — where  shall  we  go  ?  " 

"  There's  a  little  path  running  round  the  pond  that's  very 
pretty,"  Hester  suggested. 

"  Let's  take  it,"  Smith  agreed  promptly.  "  I  haven't  seen  it  yet. 
Remember,  you're  my  guide — a  heavenly  one  too,"  he  added,  sur 
veying  her  costume  critically.  "  You  see,"  he  said  as  they  emerged 
into  the  gloom  of  the  piazza  and  then  to  the  blanched  lawn,  "  I'm 
a  foxy  little  man  to-night.  I  picked  the  dance  before  the  inter 
mission  so  that  we  might  take  a  quiet  hike.  I  knew  you  wouldn't 
mind  missing  the  ice-cream.  It  seems  to  me,"  he  went  on  as  they 
struck  into  a  little  path,  open  to  the  pond  on  one  side  and  heavily 
bushed  on  the  other,  "  that  you  have  a  pippin  of  a  moon  in 
Shayneford." 

u  We're  very  proud  of  it,"  Hester  said  with  the  shy  humour  that 
happiness  had  begun  to  develop  in  her.  "  We  think  the  Pilgrim 
Fathers  picked  out  a  very  good  one  for  us." 

"  I  have  been  accused,"  John  went  on,  catching  her  light  note 
and  sustaining  it,  "  of  being  in  love  with  you.  By  a  man,"  he 
added  hastily.  "  I  thought  I'd  consult  you  about  it."  He  still 
maintained  the  light  note.  "  What  do  you  think  ?  " 

Hester  laughed.  "  What  a  ridiculous  idea ! "  She  laughed 
again.  "  If  only  somebody  would  say  that  to  mother  though." 

Smith  laughed  too.  There  was  an  element  of  relief  in  his  mirth. 
"  Thank  you,  Hester,"  he  said  gaily.  "  I  don't  mind  confessing 
to  you  that  I  don't  want  to  fall  in  love  with  you." 

Hester  echoed  his  gay  note.  "  Don't  worry !  You  won't.  People 
don't  as  a  rule." 

"  But,"  Smith  went  on,  "  it's  my  conviction,  Hester,  that  you 
and  I  are  as  good  friends  as  it's  possible  for  man  and  woman 
to  be." 

"  I  hope  so,"  Hester  said  fervently.  "  and  I  think  so — only  I 
never  know  enough  about  anything,  least  of  all  friendships  be 
tween  men  and  women,  to  come  to  any  conclusions." 

192 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  193 

"  You  know  enough  about  everything  to  come  to  conclusions, 
Hester,"  Smith  replied.  "  Hi !  what's  this  ?  " 

"  The  graveyard,"  Hester  answered. 

Just  ahead  glimmered  a  tall  cylindrical  column.  Beyond,  slate- 
grey  or  granite-pink,  or  marble-white,  stretched  forests  of  grave 
stones.  Parallel  iron  bars  running  between  square  stone  posts 
separated  them  from  the  road. 

"  That's  the  most  extraordinary  thing  about  New  England," 
Smith  said.  "  The  graveyards.  So  many  of  them  everywhere. 
And  often  such  beautiful  places — so  old  and  vine-wreathed  and 
lichened." 

"  Yes,  I  know  what  you  mean,"  Hester  said.  "  All  the  grave 
yards  here  are  such  friendly  places.  I  never  think  of  them  with 
horror  or  dread." 

Smith  turned  suddenly  and  looked  at  her.  Then  he  looked  back 
at  the  graveyard-wall,  a  quizzical  smile  on  his  lips.  "  Stand 
there !  "  he  commanded,  pointing. 

The  wall  was  broken  at  one  place  by  the  grassy  mound  that 
covered  a  tomb.  Picking  up  her  draperies,  Hester  obediently 
mounted  the  tiny  elevation. 

"  Face  me ! "  Smith  continued  to  command,  "  now  put  your 
trumpet  to  your  lips." 

Edith  Hale  had  suggested  Hester's  costume  of  a  Era  Angelico 
angel.  She  had  sent  to  New  York  for  the  thin  white  stuff  of  which 
it  was  made.  She  had  designed  it.  She  had  draped  it  about 
Hester's  thin  figure.  She  had  arranged  Hester's  hair.  The 
draperies  were  simple  and  unpremeditated-looking;  they  floated. 
Hester's  hair  was  parted  in  the  middle,  brought  down  in  a  burning 
smoothness  that  suggested  momentary  rebellion  far  over  the  ears, 
exposing  a  peak  of  forehead  and  only  the  round  of  the  cheeks. 
At  the  nape  of  the  neck,  it  was  imprisoned  in  a  cylinder  of  stiff 
gold  lace;  from  there,  it  hung  free  to  the  knees  and  then  came 
into  a  club-like  plait  enclosed  in  another  golden  cylinder  which 
swung  against  her  heels.  On  her  head  was  a  halo  of  gilded  card 
board  and  in  her  hand  was  a  trumpet  of  gilded  cardboard.  Fearing 
had  made  these  properties.  Now  the  shade  turned  her  face  to  a 
white  triangle,  but  the  moonlight  put  a  faint  golden  wash  on  her 
hair,  her  halo  and  the  trumpet  which  her  long  slim  hand  held 
to  her  lips. 

Smith  burst  into  chuckles.  "  You  look  like  an  Easter  postcard," 
he  said.  "  Come  back  now."  He  assisted  her  down  the  incline. 

"  How  have  things  been  going  at  home  ? "  he  asked  as  they 
.strolled  on. 


194  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  Better  than  ever  before,"  Hester  said  earnestly.  "  I'm  so 
grateful  for  it,  too.  Mother  seems  more  happy  than  I  have  ever 
seen  her.  Miss  Hale  has  been  a  great  help.  She  always  plays  every 
time  she  comes  over.  She  plays  as  long  as  mother  will  listen. 
And  mother  loves  music  so.  I  can't  tell  you  what  a  difference  it's 
made." 

"You  like  Edith?"  John  queried. 

"  I  love  her,"  Hester  answered  with  the  same  fine  simplicity 
with  which  Edith  had  made  a  similar  statement  earlier  in  the 
evening. 

"  I  knew  you  would.    I  felt  that  you'd  become  great  friends." 

"  I  feel  so  happy — and  so  flattered — to  think  that  she — would 

care — that  I  had  anything  to  offer "  Hester  plunged  into  those 

hesitancies  which  with  her  always  impeded  the  phrasing  of  any 
self-revelation. 

"  Do  you  think  you'll  be  able  to  come  to  New  York  this  winter  ? " 

"  No,"  Hester  said  quietly  and  simply.  "  Nor  any  other  winter 
for  a  long  while.  But  I  shan't  need  to  go  anywhere  this  winter. 
I've  had  so  much  this  summer.  I  shall  enjoy  myself  being  quiet 
and  remembering  it  all.  Oh,  how  I  shall  think  and  think  and 
think  in  the  long  evenings  and  after  I  get  to  bed — living  every 
moment  of  it  over  again.  Sometimes  it  seems  to  me  that  I've  had 
enough  this  summer  to  last  me  for  the  rest  of  my  life." 

"  I've  enjoyed  it  too,"  Smith  was  as  quiet  and  simple  as  she. 
"  More  than  I  could  tell — if  I  attempted  to  tell — which  I  shan't. 
But  don't  let  yourself  think  you've  had  enough  to  last  the  rest  of 
your  life.  This  is  only  the  beginning.  However,  I  think  you'll 
visit  New  York  sometime.  If  not  this  winter,  the  next.  And 
we  shan't  forget.  I'll  send  you  a  letter  or  a  book  occasionally  to 
prove  it.  I'm  not  involving  you  in  a  correspondence,"  he  said 
hastily.  "Please  remember  that.  But  I  don't  want  you  to  think 
that  we're  birds-of-passage  friends.  For  when  you  come  to  New 
York,  as  I'm  sure  you  will — because  it's  the  rule  that  we  manage 
by  hook  or  crook  to  do  the  thing  we  want  to  do — when  you  do 
come,  remember  we'll  make  it  as  pleasant  for  you  as  possible.  For 
what  I  can't  give  you — or  Dwight  or  Azile — Edith  will  hand  you 
on  a  gold  platter." 

"  Oh,  I  want  to  go,"  Hester  breathed,  "  I  do  want  to  go.  You 
will  never  know  how  much — even  if  I  attempted  to  tell  you,  which 
I  won't."  To  quote  Smith's  own  words  to  him  in  this  manner 
was  a  decided  step  forward  in  badinage  for  the  shy  Hester.  "  Do 
you  think  you'll  come  to  Shaynef  ord  next  summer  ?  " 

Smith  hesitated.    "I  hope  so.    But  I  don't  know.     It's  pretty 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  195 

difficult  to  tell.  We're  such  a  restless  and  wandering  gang  of 
beggars.  We  never  hare  done  the  same  thing  twice  yet.  Perhaps 
I  can  get  down  here  for  a  week-end  now  and  then." 

"  I  see,"  Hester  said.    "  Shall  we  go  back  to  the  dance  ? " 

"  All  right.  Oh,  by  the  way,  may  I  take  you  home  to-night  ? 
I  ask  you  for  a  particular  reason." 

"  Yes,  certainly."    She  looked  at  him  inquiringly. 

He  answered  the  look.  "  It's  only  that  it's  my  last  night  here 
and  I  thought  I'd  dedicate  it  to  you  and  the  moon." 

"I  think  this  camp-life  has  done  you  good,  Edith,"  Ripley 
Fearing  said  to  Miss  Hale.  They  had  sat  out  two  dances  in  a 
quiet  end  of  the  piazza. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  Edith  agreed.  "  No  doubt  about  that.  I've  acquired 
enough  strength — and  enough  courage — to  go  on  for  a  while."  She 
smiled,  but  her  eyes  were  melancholy. 

"  If  you  only  acquire  a  little  more,  you'll  realise  that  there's 
a  permanent  cure.  Some  day  you'll  come  to  me  and  ask  me  for 
my  prescription." 

I'll  ask  for  it  now,  Eipley.    What  is  it  ?  " 

"  To  attach  yourself  to  an  unpopular  reform  movement,"  Fearing 
answered.  He  smiled  his  kind  smile  but  his  hound's  eyes  were 
quite  as  melancholy  as  Edith's. 

Edith  shook  her  head.  "I  couldn't.  I'm  not  that  kind  of 
person.  I  don't  like  reformers  and  I  don't  like  reform.  Reformers 
are  always  such  ugly,  dull,  humourless,  one-ideaed  people.  They 
always  make  me  blue  and  unhappy." 

"  Yes,  that's  the  chief  handicap  that  what  we  call — reform — 
labours  under,"  Fearing  agreed,  "  the  reformers  themselves.  You 
see,  in  order  to  be  able  to  stand  up  to  the  gruelling  that  the  game 
means,  they  hare  to  be  filled  with  their  idea  to  the  exclusion  of 
anything  else.  Everything  must  go  down  before  that  idea,  en 
joyment,  human  interests,  sense  of  humour,  appreciation  of  beauty. 
It  takes  a  very  big  person  indeed  to  retain  any  of  these  in  a  reform 
work.  Being  a  reformer  means  always  approaching  people  on  the 
one  side  on  which  all  their  defences  are  up — abstract  justice. 
Fighting  prejudice,  instinctive  selfishness,  and  intrenched  power 
is  not  easy." 

"  My  friend,"  Edith  Hale  said  tremulously,  "  you  make  me 
ashamed.  And  yet,  I'm  not  making  a  small,  petty,  superficial 
criticism.  It's  the  result  of  some  practical  experience  and  a  good 
deal  of  observation.  Take  reform  itself.  I  have  lived,  in  ^the 
West,  in  one  or  two  cities  in  which  reform  waves  have  struck 


196  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

and  struck  hard.  And  do  you  know  the  effect  has  been  to  uglify 
and  dull  and  deaden  the  whole  city.  It  isn't  because  I'm  trying 
to  be  '  liberal '  or  '  bohemian '  or  any  of  those  things  that  we  all 
hate — as  poses — I'm  describing  to  you  a  state  of  mind  that  exists 
and  that  I  can't  argue  away.  What  they  call  a  '  wide-open '  town 
is  so  much  more  lovable  and  gay  and  human  than  the  reformed 
town.  When  people  who  don't  want  to  dance  or  drink  or  sit  up 
late  try  to  enjoin  other  people  from  doing  these  things,  the  effect 
is  ugly.  I  don't  want  to  live  in  a  reform  town.  Now  why  is  it  ? " 

"  I  think,"  Kipley  answered,  "  that  your  quarrel  is  with  the 
wrong  kind  of  reform.  I'm  not  for  any  of  those  movements 
which  seek  to  circumscribe  personal  liberty.  And  yet  I  suppose 
I  don't  believe  in  complete  personal  liberty.  There's  a  line  some 
where  I  think — I've  never  been  able  to  fix  it  and  perhaps  I'm 
wrong — where  personal  liberty  stops.  And  that's  the  trouble  with 
most  people — they  don't  realise  that  yet.  I  mean  for  instance  what 
I  drink  is  my  business,  when  I  drink  and  how  much  I  drink  is 
also  my  business,  provided  I  don't  interfere  with  the  personal 
liberty  of  everybody  else.  And  yet  even  that  idea  can  be  carried 
to  excess.  Take  dope " 

"  You  mean  you  think  the  state  ought  to  step  in  there,"  Edith 
questioned  as  though  incredulous. 

"  Yes— decidedly." 

"  I  don't,"  Edith  said,  her  weary  air  touched  with  an  inflexi 
bility  surprising  in  her  gentleness.  "  I  don't  think  it  ought  to  step 
in  anywhere." 

"  However,"  Eipley  went  on,  "  I  don't  I  suppose  believe  in  the 
wrong  kind  of  reform  any  more  than  you  do.  I  hate  the  word. 
It's  the  biggest  cross  I  bear  that  I  find  myself  constantly  referred 
to  as  a  reformer.  If  in  my  college  days  I  had  guessed  I  would 

ever  come  to  this But  the  right  kind  of — well,  call  it  reform 

as  long  as  there's  no  other  name.  I  prefer  calling  it  inevitable 
change — that's  a  great  fight.  Once  you're  in  it,  the  other  things, 
minor  personal  troubles,  all  slip  away  and  fall  into  their  proper 
perspective  and  their  right  proportions.  I  think  you'll  come  to 
me  sometime  and  ask  me  to  give  you  something  to  do." 

"  I  don't  think  I  will,"  Edith  said.  "  For  there  are  my  other 
limitations.  Theoretically  I  hate  injustice  and  practically  I  weep 
over  the  individual  case.  But  I'm  too  fastidious.  I've  developed 
that  fastidiousness  to  a  point  where  it  owns  me  and  dominates 
me.  It  makes  all  the  difference  in  the  world  to  me  what  kind  of 
people  are  about,  even  what  kind  of  things.  People  and  things 
make  my  atmosphere  really,  not  thoughts  and  ideas." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  197 

Fearing  did  not  answer.    He  only  shook  his  head. 
"  No,  I  think  I  shall  never  turn  to  you  now,"  Edith  concluded. 
"  It's  all  settled  for  me.    It's  all  been  settled  for  a  long  time." 

"Where'd  you  get  that  costume,  Mr.  Manning?"  Azile  Morrow 
inquired.  She  sat,  facing  Lysander,  who  balanced  himself  on  the 
rail,  his  back  against  one  of  the  posts. 

"  In  the  West,"  Lysander  answered.  "  Oh,  by  the  way  I  forgot 
to  ask  you — do  you  mind  my  smoking  ?  " 

"  No.     And  may  I  ?    Would  anybody  see  me  here  ?  " 

Lysander,  still  balancing  himself  expertly,  craned  backwards. 
"  Sure !  Nobody'd  see  you.  Have  one  ? "  He  pulled  himself 
upright,  moved  over  to  her  settee,  slapping  his  pockets  until  he 
struck  pasteboard.  Mrs.  Morrow  selected  a  cigarette  from  the 
little  box  he  held  out  to  her.  He  fumbled  in  his  pocket  again. 
But  with  the  cigarette  between  her  lips,  she  held  her  face  up. 
He  bent  down  and  she  lighted  her  cigarette  at  his.  He  did  not 
return  to  the  rail ;  instead  he  seated  himself  at  her  side.  "  And 
I  don't  shock  you  by  wanting  to  smoke  ? "  she  asked. 

"  No — I've  seen  women  smoke  before.  I've  been  away  from  here 
in  the  West." 

"  Oh,  you've  lived  in  the  West,"  Mrs.  Morrow  said  in  a  sur 
prised  tone.  "  That  explains  it."  Lysander  did  not  ask  her  what 
it  explained  and  she  went  on,  "  What  part  of  the  West  ? " 

"  Colorado,  Wyoming,  California." 

"  What  brought  you  back  here  ?  " 

"  Oh — I  don't  know — habit  or  homesickness." 

"  It  was  a  girl."  Mrs.  Morrow  turned  and  looked  straight  up 
into  his  eyes. 

"  You're  wrong,"  Lysander  informed  her.  And  without  turning 
he  looked  straight  down  into  her  eyes. 

"  Oh,  piffle ! "  Mrs.  Morrow  exclaimed.  "  It's  always  a  girl." 
She  puffed  an  airy  cloud  into  his  face. 

Lysander  continued  to  examine  her  critically  through  the  grey 
smoke-film.  His  arm  dropped  back  lightly  along  the  edge  of  the 
settee.  But  this  time  he  did  not  contradict  her. 

"  It's  awfully  becoming  to  you,"  she  went  on,  still  gazing  frankly 
up  into  his  eyes.  "  That  get-up."  Then  again  frankly  coquettish, 
"  How  do  you  like  mine  ?  " 

Lysander  surveyed  her  at  length  and  at  leisure.  She  was  veiled 
and  trousered  in  a  harem-costume  of  liberty-silk  in  which  several 
shades  of  yellow  melted  into  several  more  of  orange.  She  wore 
many  sliding  bracelets  of  gold.  A  large  uncut  topaz  suspended 


198  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

from  a  chain  fell  on  her  forehead.  She  had  blackened  her  long 
eyelashes  and  carmined  her  lips,  but  otherwise  she  was  not  made 
up.  The  soft  gauzes  seemed  to  minimise  her  underlying  mus 
cularity,  to  exaggerate  an  indefinable  but  definite  suggestion  of 
voluptuousness. 

"  Frankly,"  Lysander  said  coolly,  "  I  don't  like  it." 

Mrs.  Morrow  smiled  enchantingly.  "  Of  course  you  wouldn't — 
you  lovely,  average,  normal  country  lad.  I'm  glad  you  don't. 
You'd  like  me  to  go  as  a  flower-girl  or  a  milkmaid  or  Night  or 
Morning,  wouldn't  you  ? " 

"  Oh,  no.  That  isn't  what  you  asked  me.  You  asked  me 
if  I  liked  it.  I  don't.  But,  you  are  much  more  exciting  this 
way." 

His  impudent  point  apparently  penetrated.  She  smiled  even 
more  dazzlingly.  She  had  continued  from  the  instant  he  seated 
himself  beside  her  to  puff  her  cigarette  directly  into  his  face.  His 
cigarette  had  gone  out.  "  Why  don't  you  come  to  New  York  ? " 
she  suggested. 

"  I  hate  cities,"  Lysander  answered.  "  I  guess  I  was  built  for 
the  country." 

"I  guess  you  were,"  Azile  Morrow  agreed.  She  narrowed  her 
baleful  eyes  and  stared  at  him  intently.  "  Heavens,  what  a  com 
plexion!  And  what  clear  eyes!  What  milky  teeth!  And  such 
curls!  Aren't  girls  always  running  their  hands  through  those 
curls?" 

"  Yes,"  Lysander  answered,  still  terse. 

Mrs.  Morrow  laughed.  "  I  love  your  impudence."  Her  shapely 
big  white  hand  flew  like  a  bird  upwards.  It  rested  with  a  faint 
flutter  on  Lysander's  crisply-roached  golden  crest,  came  down 
softly  across  his  cheek,  dropped  to  her  lap. 

Lysander  fumbled  again  for  a  match,  but  unsuccessfully. 
Smiling,  Mrs.  Morrow  watched  him,  her  chin  up,  her  lids  more 
than  half  over  her  baleful  eyes.  "  There's  a  light  here — you  know 
— if  you're  so  desperate,"  she  said,  talking  with  the  cigarette 
between  her  lips. 

But  Lysander  did  not  after  all  light  his  cigarette.  One  hand 
removed  it  from  his  lips.  The  other  fell  off  the  settee  to  Mrs. 
Morrow's  waist,  tightened  there.  Mrs.  Morrow's  head  fell  idly  back 
on  his  shoulder. 

"  Well,  of  course,  whenever  you  come  to  New  York,  Southward," 
Morena  said  on  the  way  home,  "  I'm  at  your  disposal." 
"  Thanks,"  Southward  responded,  "  I'll  remember  that." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  199 

"No,  you  won't,"  Morena  answered.  "But  I  will.  And  I'll 
recall  it  to  you." 

"  All  right,"  Southward  replied  indifferently.  "  You  remem 
ber  it  then." 

"  You're  an  insulting  creature,"  Morena  burst  out  after  a  pause 
in  which  he  studied  his  companion's  inscrutable  profile.  "  I'd  like 
the  job  of  taming  you."  His  mischievous  smile  made  this  threat 
innocuous. 

"  It  would  be  some  job,  mister,"  Southward  rejoined  imper- 
turbably. 

"  Oh,  I  know  that  all  right,"  Morena  agreed.  "  But  let  me  tell 
you  it  will  take  only  a  little  more  of  this  insolence  and  I'll  make 
up  my  mind  that  I'll  try  it.  And  if  I  make  up  my  mind,  it's  the 
same  as  done."  His  smile  widened  and  brightened  with  accessions 
of  his  mischievous  mood. 

"  Think  so  ?  "  Southward  questioned. 

Morena  burst  into  laughter.  He  gave  the  arm  nearest  him  a 
squeeze  that  indicated  only  humorous  enjoyment.  "  You're  a  great 
card,  little  lady." 

The  lane  began  to  widen.  The  white  fence  showed  just 
ahead. 

"  May  I  come  up  to  the  garret  to-night  ? "  Morena  asked. 

"  You  may  not,"  Southward  answered. 

"  Please !  " 

"You  may  not,"  Southward  insisted  implacably.  She  stopped 
and  began  squirting  the  light  from  her  torch  in  circles  about  her. 

"  Do  you  mean  this  is  where  I  get  off  ? "  Morena  inquired  in  an 
incredulous  tone. 

"  I  do.    Good  night !  "    Southward  held  out  her  hand. 

"  It's  not  only  good  night,  you  know — but  good-bye." 

"  Well,  good-bye  then." 

Morena  took  the  hand.  He  held  it.  "You're  a  heartless  little 
devil,  missy."  The  smile  had  left  his  lips  and  eyes.  "  You  really 
give  no  quarter  and  you  deserve  none." 

Southward  made  no  reply.  She  squirted  her  light  up  into  the 
big  bushes  and  further  up  into  the  trees. 

"  Look  at  me  when  you  say  good-bye,"  Morena  insisted. 

Southward  looked  at  him.  He  was  looking  intently  at  her. 
Everything  that  was  Celtic  seemed  to  have  faded  from  Morena's 
face;  it  had  become  entirely  Latin.  His  voice  had  changed. 
"You're  one  of  the  most  fascinating  creatures  I  ever  saw  in  my 
life,  Southward  Drake,"  he  said  slowly.  "  You  bewitch  me.  I 
don't  love  you  and  I  don't  think  I  ever  would — you're  too  hard — 


200  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

but  you  bewitch  me".  And  I  bewitch  you  a  little,  although  you 
don't  know  that  yet."  He  paused  but  he  continued  to  look  hard 
at  her.  And  Southward,  still  inundating  the  shrubbery  with 
flushings  of  light,  continued  to  look  hard  at  him.  He  still 
held  her  hand.  Her  palm  rested  on  his,  cool  as  a  sliver  of 
slate ;  but  she  did  not  remove  it.  "  We've  not  done  with  each 
other  yet,  senorita.  There's  lots  of  history  that  we're  going  to 
live  through  together.  It's  going  to  be  a  fight.  And  I  confess 
I  don't  know  whether  you'll  win  or  I.  But  there's  going  to  be 
a  devil  of  a  scrap  some  day."  He  paused.  "You  don't  believe 
that?" 

"  No,"  Southward  answered  contemptuously,  "  of  course  I 
don't." 

A  swift  dark  flash  of  emotion  made  his  face  more  deeply  Latin. 

"  Say  good-bye  to  me !  "  he  commanded  in  an  imperious  tone. 

The  hand  that  held  hers  so  loosely  tightened.  The  arm  beyond 
the  hand  tautened.  A  little  jerk  suddenly  pulled  Southward  for 
ward  onto  his  breast.  Before  she  could  move,  his  lips  had  dipped 
close  against  hers,  stayed  there.  She  rested  in  his  arms  one 
quiescent  instant,  two,  three 

Then  suddenly  she  tore  herself  loose,  tore  with  the  fury  of  a 
leopardess.  She  trembled;  she  panted.  Her  face  was  white  with 
rage,  but  in  her  big  eyes  and  on  her  trembling  lips  lay  terror, 
lay  panic.  She  dropped  stammering  phrases. 

"  How  dare  you — how — I  could  kill  you — I — never — want  to  see 
you — as  long  as  you " 

Suddenly  she  fled  to  the  house. 

When  Hester  came  in,  the  dawn  was  just  pinkening  the  west. 
Hester's  absent  eyes  were  fixed  far  ahead.  But  she  moved  with 
quiet.  The  front  door,  under  her  slim  hand,  shut  carefully;  the 
living-room  door  made  no  sound.  Her  foot  had  just  touched  the 
first  stair  however  when  her  mother's  door  opened  and,  candle  in 
hand,  Mrs.  Crowell  appeared  on  the  threshold.  She  wore  a  dull- 
coloured  kimono.  Her  yellowy-white  hair  in  two  thick  braids,  one 
falling  on  each  shoulder,  invested  her  with  a  belated  girlishness. 
One  long,  fine-taloned  hand  pink  against  the  flame  shaded  the 
candle.  The  light  swept  up  into  her  face,  filmed  it  with  fire.  But 
another  light,  an  interior  one,  sent  outwards  at  her  eyes  a 
stronger  glare. 

"  Well  ?  "  she  said.    And  her  word  was  a  question. 

Hester  stared  at  her.    "  Well,"  she  repeated,  puzzled. 

"  Have  you  anything  to  tell  me  ? "  Mrs.  Crewell  demanded. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  201 

"  Anything  to  tell  you,  mother,"  Hester  repeated  in  a  dazed  yoice. 
"  Why,  what  could  I  have  to  tell  you  ? " 

The  light  went  out  behind  Mrs.  Crowell's  face.  "  Then  what 
kind  of  a  girl  are  you  ? "  she  demanded,  "  getting  in  at  this  hour  of 
night — or  morning?  Are  you  a " 

But  Hester  had  flown  up  the  stairway. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

"  WELL,  Southward,"  said  Hester. 

"  Well,  Hester,"  said  Southward. 

Hester  did  not  speak  for  a  moment,  but  she  gazed  intently  about 
the  garret,  gazed  so  intently  that  her  look  though  untranslatable 
was  comment,  gazed  at  everything,  the  disorderly  centre-table,  the 
furniture  standing  at  odds,  the  dust  eTerywhere.  In  the  interval 
Southward  drew  a  cigarette  from  the  box,  began  calmly  to  smoke. 
Her  gaze  wandered  too,  but  without  interest;  it  came  finally  to 
Hester. 

"  Good  gracious !  "  she  exclaimed  suddenly,  "  what  is  the  matter  ? 
What  has  she  been  doing  now?  You're  as  tallowy  as  a  candle." 

"  Oh,  nothing  special.  It  isn't  that  I'm  thinking  of  now.  She 
thought  I  had  a  chance  for  matrimony.  It  was  a  terrible  disap 
pointment  to  her."  Hester  laughed  and,  in  spite  of  her  wanness, 
there  was  real  mirth  in  her  laugh. 

"  It's  the  garret,"  Hester  went  on  after  a  while,  "  that  frightens 
me  now.  It  doesn't  seem  like  the  same  place.  I'm  afraid.  I  have 
a  feeling  that  it  will  never  be  the  same  again — our  Refuge.  I've 
a  feeling  that  we've  exhausted  its  usefulness.  But  then,  that's 
not  strange.  I  feel  as  if  we'd  exhausted  everything.  I  have  a 
sensation  of  emptiness  and  vacancy  and  silence,  as  if  the  whole 
universe  had  emptied  out."  Hester  also  lighted  a  cigarette,  but 
mechanically,  and  she  began  to  pull  at  it  with  her  characteristic 
little  nervous  puffs. 

"  Heavens  knows,  I'm  restless  enough,  myself,"  Southward  ad 
mitted.  "  I  wander  round  this  garret  like  a  strange  cat.  I  can't 
adjust  myself  at  all.  And  then,  of  course,  it  isn't  the  same.  I 
feel  that  I  owe  you  an  apology  and  an  explanation,  Hester.  It 
isn't  a  Secret  Place  any  longer.  Dwight  used  to  come  up  here 
evenings  right  along.  And  Morena  came  once." 

"  But  not  together,  I  take  it,"  Hester  emitted  a  sly  gleam. 

"  No,  never.  Then  of  course  Mrs.  Morrow  and  her  mother,  who 
tried  to  buy  every  bit  of  furniture  in  it,  and  Edith.  That  does 
spoil  the  secrecy  idea.  However,  who  cares?  We  were  only 
keeping  it  secret  from  boobs.  It's  served  its  usefulness.  It's  got 
us  over  a  bad  period." 

202 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  203 

"  Like  a  new  game  in  the  winter-time,"  Hester  interjected 
slowly,  "  that  you  play  and  play  and  play  until  the  very  sight  of 
it  gives  you  a  feeling  of  nausea." 

"  Things  have  been  going  so  fast  these  last  two  weeks  that  we 
haven't  had  any  time  to  talk.  I'm  dying  to  know  what  you  think 

of  everybody  now Let's  start  right  from  the  beginning  and 

go  down  the  list.  Leaving  out  Mrs.  Boardman  who,  I  take  it, 
you  found  as  hard  as  a  stone  and  as  cold  as  a  fish — as  I  did.  By 
the  way  grandmother  likes  her  very  much.  And  really,  to  do  her 
justice,  the  old  shark  seemed  to  take  a  fancy  to  grandmother,  used 
to  come  over  here  and  have  long  talks  with  her.  Let's  begin  with 
Mrs.  Morrow.  What  is  your  final  opinion  on  her  ? " 

"  My  last  impression  is  the  same  as  my  first,"  Hester  answered. 
"  I  can't  make  up  my  mind  about  her  to  save  my  life.  She 
fascinates  me.  I  can't  keep  my  eyes  off  her  when  she's  about.  I 
like  her.  And  yet  I  distrust  her  sometimes.  Not  that  she  hasn't 
a  sort  of  splendid  generosity.  How  do  you  feel  ? " 

"  I  still  hate  her,"  Southward  answered,  with  a  vivid  enjoyment 
of  her  own  ferocity,  "  hate  her  like  the  devil.  And  say,  you 
remember  I  told  you  that  her  name — Azile — was  Eliza  screwed 
round.  Well,  I  was  right.  I've  got  the  goods  on  her.  She  had 
a  rich  old  aunt,  Eliza  Boardman,  whom  she  expected  to  inherit 
a  fortune  from.  The  old  lady  married  and  left  it  to  her  husband 
though." 

"Who  told  you?" 

"  Dwight.  Of  course  he  hadn't  got  the  mix-up  about  the  name. 
Men  are  always  so  slow  about  such  things,  and  naturally  I  didn't 
peep." 

"  And  Edith  ?  "  Hester  went  on,  "  what  do  you  make  of  her  ?  " 

"  She's  sick,"  Southward  said  emphatically.  "  There's  some 
thing  wrong  with  her,  I  don't  know  what.  I  don't  think  she  knows 
herself.  Sometimes  she  seemed  almost  nutty.  Did  you  ever 
notice  how  in  the  morning  she'd  wander  on  in  the  craziest  vein  ? " 

"  Yes,"  Hester  admitted.  "  I  did  notice  that.  I  never  thought  of 
it  particularly  as  a  symptom  of  illness.  She's  rather  vague  often. 
But  I'm  sure  that  she's  not  quite  well.  She  always  says  she  is 
though." 

"  It's  nerves,"  Southward  vouchsafed.    "  She's  a  strange  woman." 

"  Yes,  she's  strange,"  Hester  agreed.  "  But  I  love  her — de 
votedly. — And  Morena,"  she  went  on.  "  I'm  interested,  Southward, 
in  what  you  say  about  him.  I  never  got  to  know  him  really;  for 
you  see  I  didn't  interest  him  any  more  than  I  did  Dwight.  He 
interested  me  though.  I  think  he's  the  handsomest  man  I  ever  saw 


204  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

in  my  life.  I  should  have  fallen  dead  in  love  with  him  at  sixteen. 
But  there  was  a  kind  of  strangeness  about  him.  Most  of  the  time 
I  didn't  even  feel  akin  to  him.  And  then  suddenly  I'd  seem  to 
know  him  as  well  as  you.  That  was  when  he  was  Irish.  But 
sometimes  he  was  all  Spanish.  Did  you  notice  that?" 

Southward  was  contemplating  her  feet  that  swung  nervously 
back  and  forth  during  this  speech.  "  Yes,  I  noticed  it,"  she  said 
in  a  constrained  tone.  She  seemed  to  follow  some  silent  trail  of 
thought.  Apparently  it  brought  her  to  futile  conclusion;  for  she 
brought  her  clenched  fist  down  hard  on  the  couch.  "  What  do  you 
think  of  Kipley?"  she  asked.  "Do  you  like  him?" 

"  Very,  very  much,"  Hester  declared  earnestly.  "  He  was  so 
kind  to  me  and  mother.  I  had  such  a  sense  of  comfort  when  he 
talked  with  me.  It  was  as  easy  as  though  he  were  another  woman 
and  yet  he  had  the  man's  point  of  view.  I  liked  that  feeling." 

"  I  wonder  what  the  answer  to  him  is,"  Southward  mused  in  a 
perplexed  voice.  "  Dwight  believes  that  it  was  a  tragic  love-affair. 
And  it  is  true  that  I  never  saw  a  man  who  was  so  impervious 
to  women — he  was  shell-proof.  He  won  my  vote  because  he  wasn't 
to  be  taken  in  by  me,  notwithstanding  he  thinks  me  too  pretty  to 
go  about  unleashed — those  were  his  exact  words.  I  couldn't  make 
a  dent  on  him  anywhere.  My  first  trying-out  conversation  with 
him  was  one  of  the  most  humiliating  experiences  I've  ever  had.  I 
suddenly  waked  up  to  the  fact  that  he  wasn't  looking  at  me  when 
I  talked  with  him.  His  eyes  were  on  my  face,  you  understand, 
but  he  looked  through  me.  Very  disturbing."  Southward  per 
ceptibly  enjoyed  her  own  humiliation.  "  Now  what  do  you  think 
of  Dwight  ? "  she  wound  up  suddenly. 

Hester  picked  up  another  cigarette.  She  straightened  it,  rolled 
and  pressed  it  in  her  fingers,  tapped  it.  "  I  think  a  lot  of  him," 
she  said  musingly.  "  He's  interesting  and  able  and  well-balanced 
and  sane  and  humorous  and  kind — except  that  he's  as  heartless 
a  young  brute  as  I've  ever  met." 

"  Correct !  "  Southward  agreed,  "  you've  got  the  map  of  him  ac 
curate." 

"If  something  sobering  were  to  happen  to  him,"  Hester  went 
on,  "  it  would  be  a  good  thing.  A  grief  or  a  responsibility  of  some 
kind." 

"  Right  again,  Hester,"  Southward  applauded.  "  Perhaps  your 
little  friend  will  hand  him  the  jolt  he  needs." 

"  Look  out  he  doesn't  hand  it  to  you !  "  Hester  warned.  "  He's 
ruthless." 

Southward  laughed  triumphantly.    "  The  man  doesn't  live  that 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  205 

could,"  she  boasted.  "  They're  too  easy.  I  wish  God  had  provided 
us  women  with  another  sex.  I'm  tired  working  with  this  present 
one.  I  can  beat  their  game  with  one  hand  tied." 

"  How  did  Dwight  get  on  with  his  novel  ? "  Hester  asked. 

Southward  laughed.  "  He  didn't  get  on  with  it  at  all.  He'll 
never  finish  that  novel  or  any  other.  He's  not  really  a  writer.  He 
only  thinks  he  is." 

"  He's  written  one  book,"  Hester  remonstrated. 

"  So  have  I,"  replied  Southward.  "  Anybody  can  write  one 
book." 

"  Now,"  Hester  asked,  "  what  do  you  think  of  John  ?  " 

"  In  a  way  he's  a  big  person,"  Southward  answered  directly. 
"  In  a  way,  he's  the  best  of  the  boiling."  She  stopped.  "  He's 
full  of  energy.  But  I  think,"  she  went  on  slowly,  "  he  lacks 
punch  somehow  and  someway — I  don't  exactly  know  how  to  de 
scribe  it." 

Dull  silence  fell.  Hester  looked  down.  Southward  looked  away. 
Suddenly  the  two  pairs  of  eyes  met. 

"  I  wonder,"  Hester  said,  "  if  they'll  ever  come  again." 

"  No,"  Southward  answered  decidedly,  "  I  don't  think  so. 
They're  the  kind  of  people  who  want  change." 

There  was  another  interval  of  stealthy  silence.  The  two  pairs 
of  eyes  wandered.  Suddenly  again  they  met. 

"  I  wonder,"  Hester  said,  "  if  we'll  ever  see  them  again." 

"  I  wonder  too,"  Southward  echoed.  "  Well,  they  all  seemed  gen 
uinely  interested  to  have  us  come  to  New  York." 

"  Yes,"  Hester  agreed.  She  went  on  talking  slowly,  and  as  she 
talked,  her  voice  deadened  gradually.  "  And  yet  do  you  remember 
how  wild  those  Elliotts  were  to  have  us  come  to  see  them  and 
how  that  time  we  went  to  call  in  Boston  they  didn't  know  us  when 
they  saw  us,  and  how  frosty  they  were  when  they  found  out  who 
we  were  ? " 

"  Yes,  I  remember,"  Southward  admitted  grimly.  "  Still  I  really 
think  those  people  mean  it." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  do  believe  that,"  Hester  said.  "  I  can't  for  the  life 
of  me  think  anything  else."  Emphasis  livened  her  voice  for  the 
moment. 

Another  silence  fell. 

"  It  would  be  strange  if  we  never  heard  another  word  from  one 
of  them,"  Hester  dropped  after  a  long  time.  Her  voice  had  gone 
dead  again. 

"  Well,  of  course,  you  never  can  tell,"  Southward  said  philosoph 
ically.  "Hark,  what's  that?  Oh,  Charlotte's  bell.  That  means 


206  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

mail.  Wait  a  moment.  I'll  be  right  back."  She  flew  down  the 
stairs. 

She  returned  quickly,  a  big  manilla  envelope  in  one  hand  and 
a  small  package  in  the  other.  "  Well,  we've  heard,"  she  said 
carelessly.  "  That's  Dwight's  handwriting.  Let's  see  what's  in 
the  package."  She  slipped  the  cord  off,  pulled  the  wrappings 
away.  There  emerged  a  box  of  a  heavy  shiny  white  cardboard. 
She  opened  it,  pulled  out  a  cigarette  case  of  silver,  mono- 
grammed.  "  Isn't  that  a  beauty  ? "  she  exclaimed.  She  turned  to 
the  letter. 

"  Well,  I  must  be  going,"  Hester  murmured. 

"  Oh,  stay  and  hear  the  news,"  Southward  commanded,  running 
a  hairpin  under  the  flap  of  the  envelope. 

"  No,  I'll  come  over  later,"  Hester  protested.    "  Good-bye." 

Southward  was  deep  in  her  letter.  "  Good-bye,"  she  answered 
absently.  Then,  "  Oh,  Hester,"  she  called  abruptly. 

Hester  was  half-way  down  the  stairs.    "  Yes." 

"  Remember  we're  going  to  New  York." 

"  I  don't  believe  it,  Southward." 

"  Hester,  we're  going  to  New  York." 

"  All  right." 

Hester  hurried  down  the  South  Lane  and  up  the  Lower  Road  to 
the  main  street.  She  entered  the  Post  Office  with  a  swinging 
tread,  passed  swiftly  to  the  mail  window. 

"  Nothing  for  you,  Hester,"  the  postmaster  said.  Hester's  step 
lagged  as  she  emerged.  She  walked  slowly  home. 

"  Any  mail  ? "  her  mother  demanded  as  she  entered  the  house. 

"  No,"  Hester  answered  in  a  listless  voice. 

"  Haven't  heard  from  your  New  York  friends  yet,  have  you  ? " 
Mrs.  Crowell  went  on  relentlessly. 

"  No." 

"  I  thought  you  wouldn't,"  Mrs.  Crowell  declared. 

Hester  did  not  reply. 

"  Everybody  in  this  town  is  saying,"  Mrs.  Crowell  continued  in 
her  even  monotone,  "  that  Southward  refused  that  Dwight  Cameron 
but  that  you  didn't  get  a  chance  to  refuse  anybody — that  that  John 
Smith  didn't  come  up  to  the  scratch  at  the  last  moment." 

"If  they  mean  that  he  did  not  ask  me  to  marry  him,  they  are 
quite  right,"  Hester  vouchsafed.  "  You  might  tell  them,  if  you 
care,  that  his  attitude  towards  me  was  never  anything  but  that  of 
a  friend." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  care,"  Mrs.  Crowell  protested.  "  That  isn't  what 
they  say.  They  say  he  flirted  with  you  all  the  time." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  207 

"  They're  mistaken,"  Hester  said  wearily. 

"  Who's  that  turning  into  the  gate  ?  "  Mrs.  Crowell  asked.  "  Oh, 
Libbie  Hatch.  Hullo,  Libbie.  Glad  to  see  you !  Come  in!" 

Libbie  came  in,  her  earrings  swinging  with  her  quick,  brisk 
trot.  "  Well,  I  saw  you  go  by,  Hester,"  she  panted,  "  I  was 
at  Mis'  Snow's.  I  called  from  the  porch  but  you  didn't  hear  me. 
I  tried  to  catch  up  with  you  but  I  couldn't — Land  sakes,  how  you 
do  pelt  I  I  stopped  in  for  your  mail,  knowing  I  was  coming  here. 
These  are  for  you,  Hester." 

She  handed  Hester  a  package  and  a  letter. 

Hester  disappeared,  floating  swiftly  up  the  stairs. 

The  letter  was  brief. 

Dear  Hester, 

I  have  not  written  simply  because  I  have  not  had  a  moment.  I 
want  to  thank  you  for  the  summer*  I  never  had  one  like  it  before 
and  I  shall  never  have  one  like  it  again.  I'm  sending  you  a  book — 
you  said  once  that  you  had  never  read  it.  It  is  one  of  my 
favourites. 

John. 

The  book  was  Peter  Ibbetson. 


BOOK  THREE 


BOOK  THREE 
CHAPTER  I 

"  THERE  they  are ! "  Southward  exclaimed.  And  her  face  that 
had  been  a  little  shadowed  with  uncertainty  lightened  with  a 
triumphant  smile.  She  wared  her  hand. 

"  Where  ?  "  Hester  asked.  The  word  came  in  a  gasp.  Her  hand 
went  out  and  clutched  Southward's  arm  for  support.  But  before 
Southward  could  speak,  Hester's  face  changed;  her  cataclysmic 
blush  filled  its  hollows,  her  smile  illuminated  its  contours. 

Dwight  and  John  darted  through  the  big  waiting  crowd  in  the 
Grand  Central  Station  and  shook  hands. 

"  The  Planet  has  sent  me  up  here,  Miss  Drake,"  Dwight  stated 
formally,  "  to  ask  you  how  you  like  New  York." 

"  Oh,  very  much,"  Southward  answered  with  an  equal  formality. 
"  Tell  the  readers  of  the  Planet  that  I  am  charmed  with  the 
metropolis.  It's  so  like  dear  Paris." 

Dwight  laughed.  "  You're  on !  "  he  exclaimed.  He  continued 
to  laugh  as  he  took  her  arm.  But  obviously  his  laughter  was 
merely  the  foam  of  an  oncoming  tide  of  good  spirits.  He  steered 
her  dexterously  through  the  crowd.  This  was  an  easy  process. 
People  gave  way  instinctively  before  the  tall,  vigorous,  well-dressed 
young  man  whose  whole  attitude  breathed  arrogant  command  and 
whose  mischievous  blue  eyes  so  pleasantly  re-enforced  that  arro 
gance.  "  Well,"  he  said  and  his  tone  was  half  exultation  and  half 
relief,  "  you're  here." 

"  Yes,"  Southward  returned  and  her  tone  was  half  triumph  and 
half  gaiety,  "  I'm  here." 

"  Your  letters  have  been  bully." 

"  Well,  for  that  matter,  your  own  letters  have  been  pretty  good." 

"  God  knows,  I  tried  to  entertain  you."  He  looked  at  her 
critically.  "  You've  lost  some  of  your  tan." 

"  Of  course.    I  always  do  in  the  winter." 

"  You're  thinner  too." 

"  A  little.    You  look  well." 

"  I'm  feeling  grand  and  fit.  John  kept  after  me  when  I  got  home 
from  Shayneford  and  I're  been  going  to  a  gym  regularly — boxing 

211 


212  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

and  swimming.  Getting  in  trim  for  your  visit,  you  see.  It'll  be 
some  visit,  believe  me.  I'm  going  to  rip  New  York  open 
from  the  Bronx  to  the  Battery." 

"Thanks.    I  shall  enjoy  that  process.    How's  the  novel  going?" 

"  Oh,  that  one — not  at  all.  But  a  new  one's  going  fine.  You 
see  after  I  got  away  from  Shayneford,  it  was  pretty  hard  to  keep 
up  the  atmosphere.  I'll  have  to  go  there  again  sometime,  But 
don't  let's  talk  about  that  now.  I'll  give  you  a  spiel  about  the 
novel  later." 

"  All  right.  Oh — say — before  I  forget  it,"  Southward  veered  off 
the  course  for  an  instant.  "  Can  you  tell  me  about  that  big 
German  oculist  Greinschmidt  that  the  papers  are  so  full  of  at 
present?  Is  he  going  to  make  a  long  visit  to  this  country?" 

"  Yes,  several  months,  I  think.    Why  ?  " 

"  A  friend  of  mine  wants  to  consult  him." 

"  He's  going  West  immediately.  I'll  keep  an  eye  on  him," 
Dwight  promised.  "  I'll  tell  you  when  he  comes  back." 

There  fell  a  pause.  It  was  not,  however,  so  much  lack  of 
conversation  as  that  Dwight  fixed  his  companion  with  another 
interested  and  critical  scrutiny.  "  Lord,  you  are  a  pretty  thing," 
he  exclaimed.  And  he  continued  to  look  at  her  with  a  cool  steadi 
ness  which  had  a  touch  of  deliberate  impertinence.  She  returned 
the  look  in  kind.  Their  glances  met,  sparkled  into  mirth. 

They  stopped  in  the  doorway,  waiting  for  the  others.  Southward 
stared  about  her.  "  Heavens,  what  a  racket !  Oh,  and  isn't  that 
building  tall !  Let  me  count.  Twelve  stories.  I'm  crazy  about  the 
skyscrapers.  When  I  was  here  before,  I  used  to  stand  for  hours 
watching  them  building  one  on  Fourth  Avenue.  How  I  used  to 
envy  those  men  working  so  high  in  the  air.  I've  seen  them  go 
sailing  like  a  bird  on  a  girder.  I'd  have  given  anything  to  do 
that.  Say,  do  you  suppose  I  could  take  a  trip  in  a  flying  machine 
while  I'm  here  ?  " 

"  Gee,  you're  a  hard-headed  young  woman.  It  makes  me  dizzy 
just  to  think  of  such  heights.  But  don't  waste  any  time  on  these 
mushroom  growths.  Wait  till  I  show  you  the  Metropolitan  Tower 
and  the  Woolworth  Building  and  the  Singer.  Say,  they're  some 
pumpkins." 

But  Southward's  eyes,  as  though  involuntarily  impelled,  con 
tinued  to  scale  one  after  another  the  buildings  that  surrounded 
them. 

The  other  two  were  following  at  a  slower  pace,  Hester  obviously 
bewildered.  "  Does  it  confuse  you,  Hester,  all  this  noise  ? "  John 
asked. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  213 

"  Oh,  very  much,"  Hester  answered.  "  I'm  dazed.  It  doesn't 
seem  real.  But  then  I've  been  living  in  a  dream  ever  since  it 
was  decided  that  we  were  to  come.  I  feel  as  though  I'd  like  to 
reach  out  and  touch  something  solid.  It's  very  queer — that  sensa 
tion — there's  a  kind  of  giddiness  to  it.  I  feel  a  little  as  you  do  at 
the  beginning  of  sickness,  as  though  there  weren't  a  solid  founda 
tion  under  your  feet.  Still  I  hope  if  it  is  a  dream  that  I  won't 
wake  up.  Is  this  really  a  station?  What  a  wonderful  place  it  is! 
Like  a  palace.  Are  those  the  signs  of  the  Zodiac?  It  makes  it  all 
the  more  like  a  dream — or  a  vision  perhaps — to  enter  New  York 
through  this  wonderful  gateway." 

John  laughed.  "  I  won't  wake  you  up,"  he  promised.  "  How 
are  you  ?  "  He  examined  her  searchingly  while  she  answered. 

"  I  feel  better,"  Hester  replied.  "  Ever  since  mother  said  that 
I  could  go  away,  I've  felt  better." 

Her  blush  had  faded.  Now  she  was  colourless,  almost  bloodless. 
The  lines  of  her  profile  cut  stark  through  her  skin.  Every  shadow 
was  a  purple  hollow.  Every  line  was  a  brown  furrow. 

"  Your  mother  wanted  you  to  come  to  New  York  then  ? " 

"  Yes.  She  proposed  it.  Mother's  been  very  kind  ever  since 
my  illness.  And  then  things  happened  just  right  for  me.  A 
relative  of  Mrs.  Drake's  wrote  and  asked  if  she  could  come  to 
Shayneford  to  spend  the  winter.  That  gare  Southward  a  chance 
to  leave.  When  she  came  over  to  ask  me  if  I  could  go,  mother 
proposed  I  should  before  Southward  could  get  the  words  out  of 
her  mouth.  You  see  the  doctor  had  told  mother  that  I  ought  to 
have  a  change.  I  got  leave  of  absence  from  the  school  for  a  year. 
I  had  some  money  of  my  own  saved  up  and  mother  gave  me 
some  more,  a  hundred  and  fifty  dollars.  Southward  and  I  can 
stay  as  long  as  our  money  lasts." 

"  We'll  see  that  it  lasts  a  long  time,"  John  turned  a  sobered 
glance  from  her  face  for  a  moment,  "  I  suppose  you  know  that 
you  are  in  our  hands  for  the  day.  Dwight  and  I  constituted 
ourselves  a  committee  of  entertainment,  the  instant  we 
got  your  letters,  saying  you  were  coming.  You're  to  have  a 
party  of  welcome  at  my  place  to-morrow  night.  I'm  afraid 
we've  laid  out  a  pretty  exhausting  program  for  you  to-day. 
Perhaps  I'd  better  tell  Dwight  that  we  must  cut  some  of  it 
out." 

Hester  stayed  him  with  a  quick  clutch  on  his  arm.  "  Oh,  don't," 
she  entreated.  "  I  want  to  get  tired.  I  don't  sleep  very  well.  I 
haven't  slept  for  more  than  a  few  hours  for  nights  and  nights  and 
nights.  I  want  to  get  so  tired  that  I'll  sleep  like  a  log.  And 


214  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

besides,  Southward  will  want  to  do  everything  you've  planned. 
Please." 

"  All  right,"  John  said,  "  the  original  schedule  goes.  We're 
taking  you  to  your  rooms  first." 

They  continued  to  wind  about  the  groups  that  dotted  the  main 
hall  of  the  mammoth  station.  At  times  Dwight  and  Southward 
seemed  to  disappear,  but  John  always  found  their  trail.  Reunited, 
they  came  out  finally  into  the  blinding  glare  of  the  brilliant  No 
vember  day  into  that  welter  of  sharp  contrasts,  of  tall  buildings 
with  short,  of  foreign  faces  with  native,  of  opulence  with  dinginess, 
of  wealth  with  poverty  which  is  the  New  York  scene,  into  that 
mixture  of  hurry,  confusion,  noise,  transitoriness,  and  incompletion 
which  is  its  atmosphere.  Above  stretched  a  sky,  as  smoothly 
shining  as  a  sheet  of  blue  metal.  The  air  was  clear,  crisp,  electric ; 
its  tingle  flashed  through  the  blood,  brought  colour  to  the  face,  light 
to  the  eyes.  In  the  street,  a  tangle  of  traffic  jarred  and  jangled 
from  curb  to  curb.  On  the  sidewalk  the  crowd  stretched  from 
gutters  to  buildings.  That  crowd  drew  Dwight  and  Southward 
into  its  current,  submerged  them,  and  bore  them  smoothly  onward. 
John  and  Hester  plunged  in  after  them,  crossed  the  street. 

"  Which  one  was  it,  John  ? "  Dwight  called.  "  Where  in  thunder 
did  that — oh,  here  he  is !  " 

Out  of  the  flood  of  moving  vehicles  in  the  street,  a  taxi  churned 
to  the  sidewalk  and  came  to  a  boiling  quiet  beside  them. 

Dwight  called  the  address.  He  helped  the  girls  in.  The  two 
men  seated  themselves  with  their  backs  to  the  driver.  The  taxi 
dived  expertly  into  the  flood  of  vehicles. 

"  Well,"  Dwight  remarked  easily.    "  This  is  New  York." 

"  Yes."  Southward  echoed  this  statement  with  equal  ease.  Her 
smile  of  delight  filled  her  face  with  sparkle.  "  This  is  New  York 

again.  The  last  time  I  was  here "  A  jagged  flash  of  expression 

as  of  a  remembered  horror  'cut  out  the  sparkle  from  her  air  for 
an  instant.  Her  eyes  met  Dwight's  in  a  gleam  of  understanding. 
The  terror  disappeared.  She  gave  a  quick  glance  at  Hester  and 
John  who  were  looking  out  one  window  together.  "  This  is  New 
York,"  she  repeated.  "  Get  that  skyscraper,  Hester.  Fifteen 
stories.  Think  of  it,  Hester.  New  York !  " 

"  I  don't  quite  believe  it  though,"  Hester  said  almost  inaudibly. 
Her  eyes  went  to  the  sidewalk,  like  an  overloaded  escalator, 
streaming  past  them.  Her  glance  came  back  swiftly  as  though 
the  sight  were  too  alien  to  be  sustained  with  comfort.  It  sought 
John's  face  and  clung  there. 

"  You  seem  to  believe  it,  Southward,"  Dwight  commented. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  215 

"  Oh,  I've  believed  it  ever  since  last  summer,"  Southward  an 
nounced  tranquilly.  "  The  things  that  I  want  to  happen  do 
happen — that's  all."  She  craned  out  the  window.  "  Twelve,"  she 
said  meditatively  after  a  tiny  pause  in  which  her  glance  rapidly 
scaled  a  skyscraper.  And  in  another  second  with  the  excitement 
of  discovery,  "  Sixteen  stories — sixteen !  "  Then  after  a  long 
pause  in  a  loud  peremptory  tone.  "  Sit  on  his  head,  one  of  you ! 
Horse  down !  "  she  turned  to  explain  briefly.  "  They'll  never  get 
him  up  that  way.  See  what  a  lovely  street,  Hetter.  Looks  a  little 
like  Commonwealth  Avenue." 

"  Yes,  I'm  staring  at  it,"  Hester  answered,  "  but  I'm  afraid  I'm 
not  seeing  it." 

"  Park  Avenue,"  Dwight  explained. 

"I  know  just  what  you're  going  through,  Hester,"  John  said. 
"  For  the  first  three  years  that  I  lived  here,  it  was  like  going  to 
a  different  planet  every  time  I  came  back  to  New  York.  I  can't 
get  that  feeling  now  to  save  my  life.  And  let  me  tell  you  I  miss 
it.  Keep  it  as  long  as  you  can,  Hester." 

"  Keep  it,"  Hester  burst  into  unexpected  articulateness.  "  It's 
keeping  me." 

The  taxi  chugged  across  an  avenue,  dirty  and  crowded  but  broad, 
to  a  street,  dirty  and  crowded  too  but  narrow;  churned  towards 
a  big  cream-coloured  building  made  of  a  smooth  mottled  brick 
with  metal  fire-escapes  zigzagging  down  its  front;  boiled  up  to 
the  curb;  stopped  dead. 

Dwight  leaped  out,  paid  the  man.  "  There's  your  letter-box 
over  there  in  the  corner,"  John  said  as  he  pushed  open  the  door. 
"  And,  as  I  live,  two  letters !  " 

The  row  of  brass  boxes,  set  into  the  marble  of  the  vestibule, 
were  choked  with  letters,  dodgers,  picture  postcards.  Above  one 
of  them  was  a  slip  of  cardboard  neatly  printed  with  the  two 
names,  Miss  Southward  Drake,  Miss  Hester  Crowell.  John  drew 
a  bunch  of  keys  from  his  pocket,  inserted  one  in  the  lock  of  the 
box;  the  little  door  swung  back. 

"  One  for  you,  Hester,"  Southward  said,  seizing  the  letters. 

"  From  Edith,"  John  commented.    "  I  recognise  the  stationery." 

"  And  one  for  me,"  Southward  added. 

"  From  Azile,"  Dwight  gave  it  a  careless  glance,  "  I  recognise 
the  writing." 

John  opened  the  inner  door  with  another  key  from  his  collection. 
"  Now  brace  yourself,"  he  warned  them.  "  Five  flights !  " 

The  flights  were  easy  ones  with  landings  half-way  up.  The 
country-girls  skimmed  them  like  birds.  Southward's  eye  caught 


216  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

examiningly  on  every  detail  of  the  upward  journey;  the  stone  steps 
a  little  littered,  the  dumb-waiters,  loaded  with  unsightliness,  the 
open  doors  which  gave  glimpses  into  shadowy,  cluttered  interiors, 
the  people  who  passed.  But  Hester  moved  swiftly  up  the  five 
flights  without  fatigue  apparently  but  apparently  also  without 
observation. 

John  opened  the  door  on  the  sixth  floor.  "  Welcome  home ! " 
he  said  as  he  swung  it  back.  He  led  them  into  a  narrow  dark 
passageway. 

"  There's  your  living-room."  He  pointed  to  a  tiny  room  at 
the  right,  and  proceeding  rapidly  straight  ahead,  "  Here's  your 
kitchen." 

Hester  stood  stockstill  holding  her  look  of  a  dazed  wonder. 

But  Southward  was  characteristically  present-minded.  She 
darted  first  to  the  big  window,  pulled  aside  the  curtains 
that  screened  them  from  a  pour  of  sun.  It  opened  on  a  square 
interior  court.  Across  were  red  tiled  roofs;  above  a  patchwork, 
blue  and  white,  of  cloud  and  sky.  "  Looks  like  pictures  of 
Italian  towns,"  Southward  commented.  "  I  like  it,  don't  you, 
Hetter?" 

But  Hester  did  not  speak.    Very  slowly  she  nodded. 

Southward  dashed  through  the  other  two  rooms,  a  tiny  bedroom 
and  a  bathroom.  She  opened  the  closet  doors.  She  stood  for  an 
instant  silent,  looking  keenly  about,  examining  the  furniture, 
measuring  heights  and  lengths.  "  I  think  this  is  great,"  she  com 
mented. 

"  I  knew  you'd  like  it,"  John  said.  "  Miss  Winthrop,  from  whom 
you  are  subletting  it,  found  it  very  pleasant  here.  Remember  the 
rent  is  four-fifty  a  week  and  that  they  come  round  weekly,  not 
monthly,  to  collect.  By  the  way,  Azile  and  Dwight  stopped  in 
yesterday  and  stocked  the  place  with  ice  and  groceries  and  eats 
of  various  descriptions." 

"  That  was  very  thoughtful  of  Mrs.  Morrow,"  Southward 
turned  a  level  glance  on  Dwight. 

"  She  was  no  end  of  help,"  Dw^ght  replied,  idly  surveying  the 
court.  "  She  spent  the  whole  day  at  it  and  she  was  so  bewitched 
by  the  place  that,  instead  of  going  out  to  meals  with  me — as  she 
was  invited  to  do — she  stayed  here  and  cooked  luncheon  and  dinner. 
At  least  that  was  her  description  of  it  later,  though  it  seems  to 
me  I  did  the  cooking." 

John  was  in  the  meantime  examining  the  refrigerator,  explaining 
to  Hester  the  uses  of  the  gas  stove  and  the  lift  in  the  hall.  "  Now, 
girls,"  he  concluded  abruptly,  "  Dwight  and  I  are  going  over  to 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  217 

the  Club  to  get  our  mail.  We'll  be  back  in  three-quarters  of  an 
hour.  Remember  the  rest  of  the  afternoon  and  evening  belong 
to  us." 

"  How  about  a  little  walk  before  dinner  ?  "  John  asked  when, 
prompt  to  the  second,  they  rejoined  the  girls. 

"  We'd  love  it,"  Southward  answered  with  an  immediate  spark 
of  vivacity.  "  At  least  it's  up  to  Hester.  Remember  though, 
Hetter,  you're  not  to  let  yourself  get  tired  out." 

"  I  want  to  get  tired  out  if  you'll  let  me,"  Hester  pleaded 
humbly.  "  I  would  like  to  go  to  bed  dead  as  a  log.  Yes,  let's 
walk." 

"  Oh,  we'll  agree  to  tire  you  all  right,"  Dwight  promised  cheerily. 

They  struck  across  town.  On  Fifth  Avenue,  the  purple  street 
lights  just  beginning  to  glow  through  the  soft  vaporous  dusk, 
produced  the  effect  of  colour  not  light,  like  flowers  cut  from 
pearls  and  amethysts.  The  sidewalks  were  crowded;  idle  people 
sauntering;  smartly  dressed  women  and  no  less  smartly  dressed 
men,  some  with  the  easy  grace,  the  careful  dressing,  the  immacu 
late  grooming,  the  accent  of  personality,  the  studied  unconscious 
ness  which  marks  stage  people;  the  others  an  indiscriminate  ruck 
of  men-and-women-about-town,  demi-mondaines,  store-girls,  out- 
landers  :  busy  people  hurrying ;  girls  with  hat -boxes,  messenger- 
boys  with  flowers,  pale  readers  from  the  Library,  human  wreckage 
from  the  slums.  Occasional  lace-peddlers,  squatting  on  the  side 
walks,  held  up  their  wares  to  the  passers-by,  giving  the  scene  an 
air  oddly  foreign;  occasional  beggars  whipped  through  the  crowd, 
furtively  asking  for  alms  and  adding  another  touch  as 
strangely  un-American.  These  human  streams  netted  the  side 
walks  with  colour,  light,  motion.  The  street  was  caught  in  another 
web  of  glitter  and  glare,  a  jam  of  fashionable  motor  traffic.  It 
divided  into  two  parallel  lines  of  sparkling  jet — that  jam  of 
motor  traffic — one  going  north,  the  other  going  south.  But  what 
ever  its  direction,  its  burden  never  varied,  pampered  female  flesh, 
exquisitely  draped  and  ornamented.  All  this  was  wedged  between 
a  double  line  of  shop  windows,  flaunting  a  display  delicately  or 
exotically  voluptuous;  gowns,  laces,  veils,  scarfs,  hats,  artificial 
flowers,  gloves,  jewels,  all  of  the  most  fragile  and  most  expensive 
materials,  a  display  which  explained  perfectly  the  women  in  the 
motors.  At  one  end  the  sharp  relentless  prow  of  the  Flatiron 
Building  cut  the  seething  flood  in  two  streams;  at  the  other  the 
huge,  softly-furry  bank  of  the  Park  trees  made  mystery  of  its 
disappearance. 


218  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

They  walked  north  on  one  side  to  the  high,  grey,  lacy-spired 
pile  of  the  Cathedral  and  south  on  the  other  to  the  flat,  white,  lion- 
guarded  mass  of  the  Library.  For  a  time,  the  crowd  seemed  to 
increase.  The  men  were  kept  busy  pointing  out  celebrities.  South 
ward  recognised  a  face  here  and  there;  and  continually  she  called 
Hester's  attention  to  the  signs  of  firms  that  they  had  known 
hitherto  only  through  advertisement. 

Hester  talked  little  and  always  in  low  tones.  But  excitement 
had  begun  to  mount  in  her.  Superficially  she  looked  better.  Her 
cheeks  glowed  with  a  deep  pink  that  had  a  purplish  tinge,  as 
though  the  whipping  November  air  were  warm,  not  cold;  her  eyes 
gleamed  with  a  perpetual  surprise.  "Where  do  all  these  people 
come  from  ?  "  she  asked. 

John  who  for  the  most  part  watched  her,  laughed. 

"  Nobody  knows.  There  are  endless  reservoirs  in  New  York,  and 
the  Avenue  seems  to  tap  them  all." 

"  I  have  enjoyed  the  books  very  much,"  Hester  said  timidly  after 
a  silence,  "  and  the  magazines." 

John  smiled.    "  I  hope  they  made  a  rebel  of  you." 

Hester  shook  her  head.  "  I'm  too  afraid.  But  I  read  them  all. 
They  terrified  me.  I  can't  believe  them.  But  I  did  read  every 
word.  Some  things  I  had  to  read  over  and  over  again  before  I  got 
a  glimmer  of  an  idea  what  they  were  about.  I've  made  out  a  list 
of  phrases  that  I  want  you  to  explain  to  me." 

"  I'll  do  that  gladly.    Why  didn't  you  write  and  ask?  " 

"  I  didn't  want  to  bother  you,"  Hester  answered  almost  inaudibly. 
"  It  would  have  meant  a  lot  of  writing  for  you — there  were  so 
many  of  them  and  some  of  them  so  complicated.  It  would  have 
been  like  writing  an  A  B  C  manual  of  socialism,  anarchism, 
syndicalism,  and  feminism." 

"  I  should  have  enjoyed  doing  that  for  you,  Hester." 

Silence  again  fell.    John  broke  it  presently. 

"  I've  enjoyed  your  letters,  Hester.  You  write  wonderful  letters. 
It  is  extraordinary,  that  gift  of  correspondence  which  women  have 
to  so  much  greater  a  degree  than  men.  They  make  the  most 
commonplace  happenings  seem  like  epic  history.  It's  a  gift  quite 
different  from  the  creative  art  as  such.  Your  letters  are  aston 
ishingly  full  of  that  sort  of  thing.  Take  Tabby  for  instance — I 
followed  her  fate  and  the  fate  of  her  two  families  with  breathless 
interest.  I  was  so  afraid  you  wouldn't  find  a  home  for  Mr.  Roose 
velt  that  I  very  nearly  telegraphed  you  to  express  him  on  here. 
Yes,  you  are  some  letter  writer." 

"  Oh,  do  you  really  think  so? " 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  219 

"Yes.  Let  me  see.  I  have  five  of  your  letters  I  think — nice 
long  ones." 

"  Yes,  you  must  have.    I  have  five  of  yours." 

"  I  wanted  more  of  course — and  many  times  I But  I  knew 

I  hadn't  the  right  to  involve  a  woman  so  busy  in  a  correspondence." 
John's  voice  had  faltered  at  the  beginning  of  this  speech,  but  it 
ended  in  a  crisp  controlled  accent  as  of  one  who  talks  business. 

At  Forty-first  Street  they  turned  west.  "  Oh,  Hetter,"  South 
ward  exclaimed  joyfully,  "  just  think  we're  going  to  be  on  Broad 
way  together  at  last." 

"  You  say  it,"  Hester  answered  tensely.  "  I  hear  your  words 
and  I  see  your  lips  move,  but  I  don't  believe  it.  I  can't." 

They  passed  to  the  rear  of  the  Library,  cut  through  Bryant 
Park,  across  Sixth  Avenue  through  Forty-second  Street.  They 
stopped  on  the  corner  and  the  two  girls  frankly  looked  up  and 
down  the  street.  It  contrasted  in  every  way — and  in  every  way 
to  its  disadvantage- — with  the  Avenue  they  had  just  left;  it  was 
meagre,  in  aspect  narrow  and  dirty.  Everywhere  was  swift  noisy 
movement;  crowds  with  a  more  business-like  air  covering  the 
sidewalks;  cars,  drays,  taxis,  motors  choking  the  streets.  Twilight 
had  come  definitely.  On  both  sides,  as  far  as  the  eye  could  reach, 
the  lights  were  on;  the  fagades  of  many  of  the  buildings  were 
so  heavily  jewelled  that  they  turned  the  night  to  a  silver  white 
day.  To  the  complexity  of  movement,  gigantic  electric  signs,  con 
stantly  changing,  added  their  noiseless  confusion.  The  side  streets, 
a  Jblare  of  light  at  their  intersection  with  Broadway,  seemed 
to  thicken  gradually  until  they  were  tunnels  of  impenetrable 
gloom,  except  where,  high  up,  an  elevated  train  flashed  a  noiseless 
golden  ribbon  across  the  purple  dark,  or  where,  even  higher,  an 
occasional  lighted  window  in  a  skyscraper  seemed  to  paste  an 
orange  patch  on  the  very  heavens. 

Southward,  quick,  laconic,  concise — and  always  gay — made  com 
ment  on  everything,  and  Dwight  looked  at  the  things  she  indicated 
as  from  a  new  point  of  view.  But  Hester,  without  speaking, 
stared  about  her  and  John,  in  much  the  same  kind  of  silence,  looked 
at  Hester. 

"  After  all,  Hetter,"  Southward  turned  once  to  say,  "  Broadway 
itself  is  rather  a  cheap  performance,  isn't  it  ? " 

"  Good  for  you,  Southward,"  Dwight  applauded.  "  I  knew  they 
wouldn't  put  this  dingy  lane  over  on  you."  He  smiled  as  with 
a  personal  triumph.  "  The  Great  White  Way,  the  Alleys  of  Stars — 
the  Putrid  Pike  would  describe  it  better." 

"  They're  putting  it  over  on  me,"  Hester  admitted.    And  again 


220  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

she  flared  into  an  uncharacteristic  articulateness.  "  I  can't  tell 
you  whether  I'm  floating  on  a  rainbow  or  walking  through  a 
kaleidoscope." 

"  Good  for  you,  Hester,"  John  applauded  in  his  turn.  "  That's 
what  they're  always  doing  to  me.  Let  them  put  it  over  on  you. 
It  won't  hurt  you." 

"  How  about  dinner  ?  "  Dwight  inquired  suddenly. 

"  Suits  me,"  John  said.    "  Here  we  are  at  the  Pat." 

The  open  doorway  of  the  looming  white  building,  light-encircled 
at  the  roof,  offered  a  spreading  shelter  of  wrought  iron  and  glass 
at  its  base.  Under  this,  and  at  the  end  of  a  carpeted  path,  a  negro, 
huge,  bronzed,  green-uniformed,  swung  a  revolving  door  with  the 
regularity  of  an  automaton.  Swept  centrifugally  inwards,  they 
came  into  a  wide,  brilliant  lobby  where  together  men  and  women 
sat  and  chatted — and  waited;  or  stood  and  chatted — and  waited; 
or  alone  sat  and  stood — and  waited.  The  atmosphere  was  hectic 
with  colour,  sparkle,  perfume,  laughter,  chatter,  silken  rustlings, 
the  heady  excitement  of  extravagant  spending,  waiting,  and 
rendezvous.  Through  openings  that  the  shifting  crowd  made,  a 
dining-room  displayed  here  a  fairyland  of  mural  decoration  and 
there  a  Renaissance  splendour  of  flower,  fruit,  rainbow  patisserie, 
favours,  piled  high  on  a  big  round  table.  Waiters  hurried  noise 
lessly  across  the  scene. 

"  This  hotel  is  eighteen  stories  high,"  Southward  announced. 

"  The  grill  ?  "  questioned  John. 

"  The  grill,"  answered  Dwight. 

They  moved  to  the  right,  into  a  room  very  simple  and  quiet, 
seats  lining  the  wall.  At  the  door,  a  waiter  met  them.  "  Four," 
said  Dwight.  Hester  stood,  rooted,  gazing  about  her.  But  South 
ward,  with  a  quick  movement,  put  herself  ahead  of  her.  "  Follow 
me,  Hetter ! "  she  breathed.  As  though  mechanically  propelled, 
Hester  moved  on.  The  men  brought  up  the  rear.  The  waiter  led 
the  procession  to  a  corner.  Other  waiters  sprang  to  the  table, 
snatched  the  chairs  away. 

"  Not  too  near  the  music,"  Dwight  said  without  expression  as 
though  this  was  the  regular  formula.  The  head  waiter  indicated 
another  table. 

"  All  right,"  Dwight  agreed.  Waiters  again  snatched  chairs 
away.  "  You  girls  take  the  wall  seats,  please — we'll  take  the  ends." 
They  settled  themselves.  Dwight  leisurely  surveyed  the  room. 
He  pointed  out  a  celebrity  or  two. 

"  What  wonderful-looking  women,"  Hester  exclaimed,  "  I  didn't 
know  women  could  be  so  beautiful." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  221 

John  smiled  his  pleasant  understanding  smile.  He  too  turned 
and  surveyed  the  room.  "  I  used  to  feel  that  way.  But  somehow 
nowadays  New  York  women  look  so  artificial  to  me  that,  sub 
consciously  I  accept  them  as  so  much  stage-setting.  If  you  want 
my  unbiassed  opinion,  I  think  the  two  most  attractive  women  in 
the  room  are  at  our  table." 

"  Sure,"  Dwight  agreed.  He  added  in  an  undertone  to  South 
ward,  "  You  put  it  all  over  them." 

The  boyish  simplicity  with  which  Southward  dressed  made  her 
an  effective  figure  anywhere,  but  in  contrast  with  the  artificial 
vari-coloured  splendours  of  Broadway,  she  had  something  of  a 
military  smartness  and  plainness.  Her  trim  suit  of  navy-blue 
serge  was  without  decoration  of  any  kind,  except  for  the  triangles 
of  white  china-silk  blouse  which  at  the  neck  turned  over  its  lapels. 
The  crown  of  her  plain  black  hat  was  small  but  it  sank  low  on 
her  head.  The  rim  rolled  down  low  at  the  sides  and  the  back  but 
shot  up  in  front,  and  high — an  effect  supplemented  by  a  long, 
white,  sharp-pointed  wing.  It  revealed,  that  flare  upwards,  the 
whole  of  her  beautiful  brow,  the  dipping  bands  of  hair,  sleek  as  a 
bird's  breast,  and  underneath  the  profile  bold  as  a  hawk's.  There 
was  a  change  in  Southward,  however,  a  change  so  impalpable  as  to 
be  almost  imperceptible.  She  was  thinner,  more  restless.  Into  the 
calm  and  clarity  of  her  gaze  had  come  a  question,  as  though  the 
stream  of  her  thought  rippled  eternally  over  a  snag. 

Southward  would  inevitably  attract  attention,  whatever  her  cos 
tume,  if  only  for  the  verve  of  her  colouring,  the  audacity  of  her 
look,  the  spirit  that  emanated  from  every  movement.  She  would 
always  dominate  the  social  atmosphere  until  it  became  mere  setting 
for  her.  And  to-night  all  these  qualities  seemed  emphasised  in 
her.  She  flashed  from  pose  to  pose  with  the  swiftness  of  a  woman 
at  a  high  point  of  excitement. 

Hester,  on  the  other  hand,  would  attract  attention  nowhere, 
would  inevitably  sink  deeper  and  deeper  into  her  background  until 
it  absorbed  her.  Still  though  a  quiet  figure,  she  was  a  pleasing 
one.  She  could  not  possibly  mimic  Southward's  instinctive  chic 
but  evidently  from  its  air  of  quiet  taste  somebody  had  overseen 
her  dressing.  Her  modest  brown  suit,  though  palpably  ready- 
made,  was  at  least  innocuous.  Her  hair  had  been  done  in  a  new 
and  more  becoming  way,  two  long  braids  that  encircled  her  head. 
The  big  wide,  low-crowned  brown  hat  with  its  single  uncurled 
brown  plume  fitted  perfectly  into  the  composition.  Her  long, 
slim  hands  looked  distinguished  in  their  long,  black  gloves. 

All  this  time,  the  waiter  stood  at  Dwight'g  elbow,  presenting 


222  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

menus  and  emitting  the  slight  deferential  coughs  and  movements 
that  were  calculated  to  bring  this  difficult  party  to  a  knowledge 
of  its  duty. 

"  A  cocktail  ?  "  Dwight  said  finally,  looking  at  Southward. 

"  Yes,"  Southward  answered  promptly.  "  Hester,  get  that  hat 
over  in  the  corner." 

"  You  too,  Hester  ? "  Dwight  asked. 

Hester  looked  terrified.  "  I  don't  know.  I  never  tasted  a 
cocktail  in  my  life.  What  will  it  do  to  me? " 

Dwight  laughed.  "  Oh,  nothing  in  particular — except  to  cast 
a  pale-pink  glow  over  life.  Come  on,  Hester,  be  a  sport." 

Southward's  amused  laugh  rippled  out.  "  Make  her,  Dwight," 
she  advised.  "  In  the  garret,  I  always  kept  a  bottle  of  cocktails 
for  myself.  But  Hetter  would  never  drink  anything  stronger  than 
the  elderberry  we  put  up.  Come  on,  Hetter,  the  time  has  come 
to  take  the  fatal  plunge." 

"  Don't  unless  you  want  to,"  interposed  John. 

Hester  looked  more  and  more  uncertain,  more  and  more  misera 
ble,  John  more  and  more  sympathetic.  Southward  and  Dwight 
continued  quite  openly  to  enjoy  the  situation.  Even  Hester  began 
to  enjoy  it  at  last.  "  I  can't  describe  how  I  feel,"  she  said,  smiling, 
but  with  a  troubled  brow.  "  It's  as  though  I  were  giving  my  soul 
to  everlasting  perdition.  And  yet  of  course  I  want  to  drink  a 
cocktail.  I've  got  to  begin  sometime.  I'm  afraid  of  what  it  will 
do  and  yet  I  want  to  see  what  it  will  do.  Yes,  I'll  take  one." 

"  Well,  if  you  have  to  be  carried  out  after  one  cocktail,"  Dwight 
reassured  her,  "  John  and  I  guarantee  that  it  will  be  done  with 
the  minimum  of  publicity.  What  do  you  girls  want  to  eat  ? " 

"  Oh,  go  ahead  and  order,  Dwight !  "  John  commanded.  "  Don't 
bother  them !  They  don't  know  whether  they're  on  their  heads  or 
their  heels.  They'll  eat  anything  or  everything  or  nothing.  It's 
great."  His  face  clouded.  "  I'm  so  sorry  that  Edith  is  missing 
this.  She  would  love  it." 

"  I'm  so  sorry  too,"  Hester  said.    "  Why  didn't  she  come  ?  " 

"  I  begged  her  to  come  but  she  wouldn't.  She  said  that  it  would 
be  too  much  of  a  crowd  if  others  came  trailing  along  and  would 
only  blur  your  first  impressions.  Then  she  thought  the  long 
evening  would  tire  her — she  gets  tired  so  easily  nowadays.  I  really 
am  very  worried  about  Edith.  Azile,  as  it  happened,  had  an 
unbreakable  engagement  for  the  early  part  of  the  evening.  She 
was  heartbroken.  She  was  crazy  to  join  the  party." 

Dwight  was  in  the  meantime  ordering  with  the  assistance  of 
the  waiter,  who  expressed  a  sympathy  almost  tender  with  his 


223 

divagations,  oysters,  chicken  Maryland,  a  salad,  ices,  patisserie, 
coffee,  and  cheese.  When  the  oysters  came,  they  had  to  teach 
Hester  how  to  dress  them.  This  was  accomplished  with  much 
mirth,  even  from  her.  She  announced  that  she  liked  them. 

"  Southward,"  Hester  exclaimed  suddenly  between  courses, 
"  there's  a  woman  smoking  over  there." 

Southward  swept  the  party  with  her  alert  appraising  glance. 
"  So  she  is !  "  she  said.  Her  hand  sought  her  coat-pocket.  She 
pulled  out  a  silver  cigarette-case,  pressed  the  spring.  The  waiter 
brought  her  a  light. 

Dwight  smiled.     "  They  won't  put  anything  over  on  you." 

There  was  a  faint  note  of  exultation  in  his  tones.  His  air  was 
that  of  the  man  whose  horse  has  won  the  race. 

"  Are  you  going  to  smoke,  Hester  ?  "  Southward  asked. 

"  No,"  Hester  announced  with  determination.  "  I'm  not 
going  to  have  to  think  of  anything  to-night  but  what  I'm  look 
ing  at." 

It  was  getting  towards  the  theatre-hour  when  they  emerged  from 
the  hotel.  The  confusion  on  Broadway  had  increased  a  hundred 
fold.  The  sidewalks  were  crowded  with  cross-currents  of  pedes- 
trianism;  the  streets  were  filled  with  cross-currents  of  traffic.  And 
as  the  confusion  had  increased,  so  immeasurably  had  increased  the 
noise,  colour,  light — that  quality  in  the  atmosphere  of  lavish 
pleasure-seeking ;  gay  or  cynical  or  perfunctory,  but  always  luxuri 
ous  and  unthinking.  They  walked  slowly  north.  At  the  Circle, 
they  turned  and  walked  slowly  south.  Dwight  and  Southward 
kept  up  their  continual  comment  but  it  was  a  long  time  before 
Hester  spoke.  "  What  is  this  place  ?  "  she  asked  faintly  after  a 
while. 

"  The  Metropolitan  Opera  House,"  John  answered. 

"  May  I  stop  here  a  moment  and  watch  ?  "  Hester  said  this  in 
a  tone  of  excitement  that  had  even  its  note  of  irritation,  as 
though  she  must  hold  to  one  stable  detail  for  a  moment  or  submit 
to  mental  anarchy. 

"  Of  course,"  John  answered.  "  Tell  us  when  you've  had 
enough,  Hester." 

They  stopped.  Dwight  and  Southward  snapped  comments  back 
and  forth,  comments  that  were  full  of  veiled  impudence,  an 
obvious  joy  in  that  impudence;  interrupted  by  sudden  jets  of 
laughter.  Hester,  silent,  moveless — rapt — drank  the  spectacle 
down.  And  John,  much  amused  and  yet  with  an  undercurrent  of 
sympathetic  understanding  in  his  look,  watched  Hester. 

It  was  always  the  same,  that  spectacle.    A  glossy  file  of  motors, 


224  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

like  an  interminable  carefully-articulated  serpent  whose  tail 
stretched  around  the  corner,  followed  the  curve  of  the  curb.  It 
inched  continually  nearer  until  the  head  lay  in  front  of  the  en 
trance.  When  it  stopped,  the  door  of  the  first  motor  flew  open 
and  a  man — or  two — in  the  glossy  black,  the  stark  white  of 
evening  clothes  leaped  out,  extended  assisting  hands.  A  woman — 
or  two — one  embodied  glisten  of  evening  gown,  evening  wrap, 
bared  flesh,  silken  ankle,  and  many  jewels,  bending  an  elaborate 
coiffure  to  avoid  the  door-top,  reached  a  cautious  glittering  foot 
to  the  carpeted  sidewalk.  The  deserted  motor  chopped  itself  off 
from  the  file,  scuttled  away,  lost  itself  in  the  crowded  street. 
The  serpent  inched  nearer. 

"  I'm  ready  to  go,"  Hester  said  with  a  sigh  after  a  while.  "  But, 
Southward,  let's  come  over  here  every  evening  and  watch  this.  I 
never  saw  such  gowns  and  coats  and  slippers  in  my  life — or  such 
jewels.  Sometimes  I've  seen  things  like  them  in  shop  windows  in 
Boston,  but  this  is  the  first  time  I've  seen  people  wearing 
them.  I  see  now  that  I  never  realised  that  they  really  did  wear 
them." 

"All  right,"  Southward  agreed,  "every  night  at  this  hour  will 
find  us  here."  She  laughed  and  her  gay,  clear  laughter,  unac- 
customedly  warm,  held  a  wave  of  sympathy.  Apparently,  by  this 
time  she  had  caught  the  degree  of  Hester's  sense  of  adventure. 

"  Here  we  take  a  car,"  Dwight  ordered. 

They  rode  down  below  Twenty-third  Street,  alighted,  walked 
east.  John  halted  them  finally  in  front  of  a  house  of  which  only 
the  area  windows  were  lighted.  He  led  the  way  into  a  little  front 
yard,  pushed  open  a  door  there,  conducted  them  through  a  dim 
hall,  pushed  open  another  door.  They  stepped  into  a  room,  crowded 
with  people,  ablaze  with  light,  and  fogged  with  smoke. 

At  the  further  end  was  a  small  platform.  One  young  woman, 
her  hands  idly  clasped,  occupied  a  chair  at  a  desk.  Another,  taking 
notes  on  a  pad,  sat  beside  her.  A  third,  standing  between  them, 
addressed  the  audience.  She  too  was  young;  she  spoke  quickly, 
f acilely,  eloquently. 

Southward's  eyes  went  to  the  speaker,  surveyed  her  from  head 
to  heel.  She  studied  the  other  women  on  the  platform  with  one 
of  her  long  keen  looks.  She  examined  the  audience  with  one  of 
her  quick  sweeping  glances.  Finally  her  attention  returned  to 
the  speaker.  She  listened  attentively.  But  Hester's  eyes,  alighting 
nowhere,  wandered  with  a  look  of  stupefaction  back  and  forth 
many  times  over  the  room. 

The  audience  was  prevailingly  youthful,  proletarian,  and  alien. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  225 

Here  through  the  smoke  bulked,  purple-black,  the  head  of  a  young 
girl,  who  might  have  been  of  any  nationality,  her  profile  almost 
buried  in  her  abundant  hair.  There,  tired,  wrung,  tallowy,  the 
face  of  a  boy  displayed  the  virile  lines  of  the  Hebraic  contour. 
Everywhere,  fiery,  in  spite  of  the  smile,  glittered  the  eyes  of  Kussia, 
like  loaded  revolvers.  Working  men  and  women — older — sagged 
on  the  benches,  tired  and  sodden.  Leisure-class  men  and  women — 
at  least  leisure  seemed  to  be  predicated  by  their  clothes — listened, 
but  without  so  much  a  sense  either  of  fatigue  or  of  revelation. 
Faces  that  had  been  paled  and  thinned  by  culture  or  by  vision 
filled  in  the  hiatus  between  these  masses. 

Middle  age,  energised  by  rebellion,  helped  to  make  that  human 
blend  and  old  age  still  desperately  demanding  an  answer  to  its 
questions.  But  youth  made  the  body  of  it :  youth,  fresh,  ringing ; 
youth,  high-coloured;  youth,  dare-devil. 

The  speaker  went  on.  Southward  continued  to  listen  attentively. 
For  a  long  time,  Hester  did  not  seem  to  hear.  Then  apparently 
her  ear  found  the  voice,  caught  a  phrase  here  and  there.  De 
liberately  she  seemed  to  concentrate  on  it.  She  turned  her  gaze 
in  its  direction. 

"...  resent  that  phrase  .  .  .  girl-mothers.  There  are  no  dis 
tinctions  between  mothers.  They  are  all  mothers  .  .  .  just  that — 
mothers.  The  woman  who  brings  a  healthy  child  into  the  world 
is  doing  the  state  the  best  service  she  knows.  Fatherhood  is  free. 
Motherhood  is  bound.  Rewards  and  honours  go  with  motherhood 
occasionally  but  only  when  convention  has  sanctioned  it.  They 
should  go  with  it  always.  Our  world  has  heaped  two  indignities 
on  women.  It  has  refused  maternity  to  some  and  has  forced  it 
on  others.  People  talk  so  much  nowadays  about  the  rights  of 
women.  There  are  only  a  few  inalienable  rights — one  is  the  right 
to  motherhood." 

Here  Dwight  snapped  his  watch  open.  "  Time's  up,"  he  whis 
pered  to  John.  "  That  is  if  you  wish  to  keep  to  the  program." 

"  I  do,"  John  answered.  He  led  the  way  into  the  street.  They 
walked  west. 

"Gee,  was  that  woman  crazy?"  Southward  demanded.  And 
before  Dwight  could  answer.  "  Oh,  look,  Hester."  She  pointed 
north. 

Up  into  the  black,  star-sheened  dome  of  the  sky  leaped  a  tower, 
square,  bulky,  many-windowed,  an  enormous  monolith  of  white 
granite  with,  near  the  top,  the  huge  Cyclops  eye  of  time.  Beside 
it,  carved,  starred,  graceful,  soared  another;  a  slender  shaft  of 
brown  stone  whose  tip  imprinted  a  Diana  figure  on  the  sky. 


226  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  The  Metropolitan  Tower,"  Dwight  informed  her.  "  And 
Madison  F<y:are  Garden." 

"  Wait  till  I  count  the  stories  in  that  big  one,"  Southward 
ordered.  Heater  stared  at  the  two  towers  but  it  was  evident  that 
she  did  not  see  them.  "  What  was  that  meeting  ?  "  she  asked  John. 

"  A  Socialist  Local,"  John  answered. 


CHAPTEE  II 

"WHAT  time  is  it?"  John  asked. 

"  Nine,"  Dwight  replied,  "  we'll  just  about  make  it." 

"  Let's  take  a  taxi  there  to  be  sure,"  John  suggested.  He 
signalled  to  a  driver  across  the  way. 

"  Now  where  are  we  going  ?  "  Southward  inquired. 

"  No  questions  answered  to-night,"  Dwight  disposed  of  her. 

"  All  right."  Southward  only  laughed.  "  I  like  it  better  this 
way.  Isn't  it  wonderful,  Hetter  ?  " 

"  Wonderful ! " 

They  drove  over  to  Broadway,  then  north,  then  west.  The  taxi 
stopped  in  front  of  a  narrow  dark  alley. 

Dwight  led  the  file  to  the  end  of  this  alley.  There,  an  open 
doorway  inserted  a  rectangle  of  yellow  light  in  what  looked  like 
a  high  cliff  of  red  stone.  Inside,  a  man  was  standing.  John 
handed  him  a  card.  He  looked  at  it.  "  All  right,"  he  snapped. 

"  Now  don't  any  of  you  speak  until  I  give  you  permission," 
Dwight  ordered.  His  eye  wandered  over  the  party,  passing  with 
assurance  from  John's  face  to  Southward's.  "  You're  the  only  one 
I'm  uncertain  of,  Hester.  Can  you  keep  perfectly  quiet?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  Hester  promised. 

"  No  matter  what  happens  ? "  Dwight  said  with  an  undertone  of 
seriousness. 

"  No  matter  what  happens,"  Hester  assured  him. 

"  Then  we're  off !  "  Dwight  continued  to  lead  the  procession 
as  it  proceeded  up  a  narrow  winding  stairway  of  perforated  iron. 
They  came  into  a  large  open  space  where  men,  women,  and 
children,  all  with  hats  and  coats  on,  were  standing  still  and  quiet. 
Just  ahead  flared  a  light.  Silently  Dwight  and  John  drew  the 
girls  into  the  crowd. 

Presently,  a  little  active,  red-headed  man  bustled  up.  "  All 
right  now !  "  he  sair1  in  a  low  irritated  whisper.  "  Hurry  up ! 
Hurry  up  there !  Get  a  move  on !  "  The  crowd  stirred,  billowed, 
moved.  Southward  and  Hester  moved  with  it.  They  came  on  a 
big  stage.  At  the  back  spread  a  drop  painted  with  a  view  of 
the  ocean.  In  front  hung  a  curtain.  Between  drop  and  curtain 
stretched  a  train  of  cars.  Automatically  the  crowd  climbed  into 
them. 

227 


228  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  Get  in  here,  Southward,"  Dwight  whispered.  Southward 
leaped  in.  John  assisted  the  unquestioning  Hester.  The  two 
men  seated  themselves  beside  the  girls. 

"  Where  are  we  ? "  Hester  asked  John,  but  heedful  of  Dwight's 
injunction,  she  spoke  without  voice. 

"You'll  see  in  a  moment,"  John  answered,  his  lips  close  to  her 
ear.  "  Don't  speak  whatever  happens." 

Southward  was  in  the  meantime  taking  expert  cognizance  of 
everything,  the  painted  drop  at  the  back,  the  vacant  wings,  the 
machinery  above,  the  scuttling  stage-hands.  Suddenly  a  bell  rang. 
The  curtain  rose  slowly.  From  beyond  it  flashed  a  row  of  faces, 
clear,  then  another  row  less  clear,  a  third  row  vaguely  sketched 
in,  then  row  on  row  of  shapeless  pink  blurs;  then  monstrous 
looming  darkness.  There  came  a  quick  sharp  hand-clapping  that 
grew  to  a  roar.  The  wheels  of  the  car  revolved  madly.  But  the 
cars  stood  still.  The  back  drop  raced  by,  unrolling  a  continuous 
panorama  of  scenery.  And  yet  they  stood  still.  And  then  sud 
denly — crash!  Ahead  a  car  fell  to  pieces  as  neatly  as  a  cigar-box 
hit  by  an  axe.  The  sides  of  their  own  car  fell  away  and  down 
as  though  they  had  been  playing  cards.  The  passengers  jumped 
out  nimbly.  Dwight  assisted  Southward.  John  took  care  of 
Hester.  Again  that  quick  sharp  clapping  grew  to  a  monstrous 
roar;  but  this  time  it  seemed  to  sweep  the  crowd  off  the  stage. 
Dwight  led  the  way  downstairs  into  the  open  air. 

"  What  was  that  ? "  Southward  asked  in  what  was  for  her  a 
subdued  tone.  Hester  apparently  could  not  speak. 

"  You  have  just  taken  part  in  the  train-wreck  scene  of  '  The 
Queen's  Kohinoor,' "  Dwight  explained. 

"  Now  where  are  we  going  ? "  It  was  Hester  who  asked  this 
time. 

"  No  questions  answered  to-night,"  Dwight  reminded  her.  "  Oh, 
here's  a  taxi." 

The  taxi  sped  north  and  then  east.  It  stopped,  at  John's  signal, 
on  a  corner.  He  paid  the  man  and  dismissed  him.  They  walked 
further  east  half  a  block,  halted  in  front  of  a  large  building  whose 
doorways,  wreathed  with  electric  lights  and  flanked  by  two 
futurist  posters  in  green  and  black  and  yellow  and  gold,  opened 
on  a  tall  broad  flight  of  stairs. 

Dwight  led  the  way  upwards.  Music  came  curling  down  to 
meet  them ;  faint  at  first,  then  deeper,  louder,  until  a  door  opening 
suddenly  let  out  a  smashing  blare  of  ragtime.  Beyond  that  door, 
swift  in  detail,  slow  in  mass,  moved  a  mob  of  dancers  in  fancy 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  229 

costume.  It  was  as  though  an  enormous  huddle  of  picture  clothes, 
floating  hair,  masked  faces,  were  being  revolved  by  a  gigantic 
churn.  The  door  shut.  Dwight  led  them  into  a  room  opposite. 
There,  bewilderingly  confused,  stretched  two  walls,  hung  with  cos 
tumes,  and  below  counters  covered  with  makeup  material,  masks, 
wigs,  properties  of  all  descriptions. 

As  they  entered,  a  quartette  of  circus  performers,  sitting  at  one 
side,  silent,  moveless  as  statues,  suddenly  arose  together  and  with 
a  concerted  movement  removed  their  masks ;  stood  smiling. 

"  On  behalf  of  the  Borough  of  Manhattan,"  began  the  handsome 
green-and-black,  white-ruffed,  silver-spangled  contortionist  who 
was  Morena  O'Reilly.  But  he  could  get  no  further.  Edith  and 
Azile  and  Ripley  burst  into  a  staccato  confusion  of  greeting  and 
question. 

After  a  while  they  provided  Southward  and  Hester  with  masks 
and  dominoes;  the  whole  party  went  upstairs  to  the  dance  hall. 
John  found  a  box  in  the  balcony,  which  overlooked  the  floor;  and 
sitting  about  a  table  there,  they  ate  and  drank.  Hester  did  not 
leave  the  box  for  the  rest  of  the  evening,  but  Southward,  long  be 
fore  she  had  finished  eating,  had  yielded  to  Cameron's  suggestion 
that  they  dance.  She  came  back  from  time  to  time  to  tell  Hester 
something  of  her  adventures,  but  the  instant  the  music  struck 
up  again  she  was  off  on  the  wing.  In  a  quarter  of  an  hour  she 
had  become  as  integral  a  part  of  the  occasion  as  though  she  had 
been  there  from  the  beginning.  Dwight  and  Morena  brought  their 
friends  to  her  for  introduction.  But  following  the  convention  of 
the  occasion,  she  danced,  waiving  the  preliminary  of  an  introduc 
tion,  with  anybody  who  asked  her. 

"  Do  you  see  those  two  men  over  there — the  acrobats,  the  ones 
I've  just  been  talking  with?"  she  said  to  Hester  in  one  of  her 
flitting  expeditions  into  the  box.  Back  of  her  tiny  lace  mask,  the 
blue-and-black  eyes  were  all  light.  Above  her  flame-coloured 
domino,  her  dense  hair  was  like  carved  jet.  "  They  have  been 
teasing  me  to  give  them  my  name  and  address.  At  first  I  wouldn't. 
The  tall  one  is  a  Mr.  Ely,  the  other  a  Mr.  Home.  But  they  kept 
at  me  so  that  finally  I  told  Ely  my  name  and  made  him  swear  he 
wouldn't  tell  Home.  Then  I  gave  Home  my  address  and  made 
him  swear  he  wouldn't  tell  Ely.  So  that  between  them,  you  see, 
they  have  all  the  necessary  statistics,  but  they  can't  compare 
notes  because  they're  pledged  not  to  do  it.  I  am  having  a  great 
time  with  them." 

Another  time  she  thrust  her  wrist  under  Hester's  eyes.  On 
it  was  a  bracelet,  a  plain  band  of  black  onyx.  "  Somebody  put 


230  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

that  on  my  arm  while  he  was  dancing  with  me,"  she  explained.  "  I 
don't  know  who  it  was  and  he  has  probably  forgotten  it  himself  by 
this  time.  It  looks  as  though  it  belonged  to  me  now." 

Each  time  that  Southward  returned  to  the  floor  it  seemed  that 
she  plunged  into  its  gaiety  with  a  greater  degree  of  abandon.  Her 
high  spirits  did  not  evaporate  as  the  night  wore  on;  rather  they 
increased;  and  her  strength  seemed  equal  to  any  inroads  on  it. 
She  danced  almost  without  cessation.  Azile — as  a  snake-charmer 
in  yellow  she  was  a  brilliant  note  of  colour  even  in  that  brilliant 
scene — was  equally  engaged.  Edith  did  not  dance.  She  sat  up 
stairs  with  Hester.  She  said  she  was  tired  and  looked  it.  She  wore 
a  Cossack  costume,  green,  banded  with  black  fur  and  frog-trimmed; 
high  boots;  a  piquant  fur  cap.  Her  make-up  was  so  thick  and 
vivid  that  she  wore  no  mask;  under  it,  however,  she  showed 
lined  and  hollow.  Hester  said  she  was  tired  too,  but  it  was  not 
so  evident  in  her  case.  The  hot  close  air  brought  to  her  cheeks 
the  same  kind  of  flush,  thick  and  purply  pink,  that  the  afternoon 
had  laid  there.  Her  eyes  grew  several  shades  deeper  and  her  hair 
seemed  to  foam  like  fire  delicately  stranded  into  thread  flame. 

"  Are  you  getting  too  tired,  Hester  ? "  Southward  asked  again 
and  again. 

"  Yes,  I'm  tired,"  Hester  always  answered,  "  as  tired  as  I  can 
be.  But  it's  the  kind  of  fatigue  I  want.  And  I  wouldn't  leave 
for  anything  on  earth." 

At  three  o'clock  in  the  morning,  the  two  girls  tumbled  into  bed. 
Five  minutes  later,  Hester  sank  into  the  first  dreamless  sleep  of 
months. 

She  awoke  suddenly.  She  sat  up  half-way  in  bed,  struggled  to 
open  her  eyes,  sank  back  and  closed  them.  But  presently  she 
awoke  again,  sat  bolt  upright  this  time.  She  looked  about  her  with 
a  dazed  expression. 

Someone  was  screaming  her  name.  Hester  leaped  to  her  feet, 
rushed  into  the  other  room. 

Southward  sat  huddled  in  the  middle  of  the  bed,  her  black  hair 
streaming  loose,  her  black  eyes  wide,  dilated,  glittering. 

"  I'm  suffocating,  Hester,"  she  panted.  "  I  keep  seeing  those 
skyscrapers.  They  seem  to  be  hemming  me  in.  I  feel  landlocked. 
They're  choking  me.  I  shall  die  for  air — for  the  sea." 

Hester  rushed  through  the  apartment  throwing  the  windows 
wide.  They  opened  into  tunnels  of  dense  grey  fog,  dimly  lighted 
by  the  muffled  moons  of  the  street  lamps.  They  let  in  avalanches 
of  the  night  air.  It  struck  cold  and  damp  on  her  face.  She  ran 
back  to  Southward. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  231 

"  I  feel  as  if  I  were  in  a  dungeon,"  Southward  cried.  "  I'm 
going  crazy — I'm " 

"  Stop  it,  Southward !  "  Hester  ordered  peremptorily.    "  Listen !  " 

Involuntarily  Southward  listened.  Faint  through  the  muffling 
fog  came  the  blast  of  a  foghorn;  from  another  direction  came  a 
second,  then  another  and  another.  The  chorus  linked  in  a  circle. 
Suddenly  the  night  surged  with  hoarse  voices.  From  every  point 
of  the  compass  and  in  every  accent  of  caution,  they  sounded  the 
warning  of  the  sea. 

"  You're  not  landlocked,  Southward,"  Hester  explained  in  panic- 
stricken  phrases.  "  It's  an  island — Manhattan — water  all  round 
us — everywhere — and  it's  foggy — foghorns  everywhere — on  the 
rivers — both  rivers — the  bay — listen !  " 

Southward  did  not  speak.  But  she  listened.  Gradually  the 
panic  died  out  of  her  eyes. 

"  All  right,"  she  said,  "  don't  bother  any  more.  Something's 

come  over  me  lately — I — I My  nerves  aren't  what  they  were. 

I  guess  it  was  half  nightmare."  She  drew  her  hair  over  her 
shoulder,  and  rebraided  it  so  fast  that  the  strands  flew  back  and 
forth  between  her  racing  fingers.  She  lay  down.  "  All  right  now !  " 
Then,  "  Good  night,  Hetter!  " 


CHAPTER  III 

THE  next  evening  Dwight  called  for  the  two  girls. 

"  We've  been  up  only  three  hours,"  Southward  said.  "  We 
breakfasted,  lunched,  and  dined  at  one  fell  swoop." 

"  That's  right,"  Dwight  approved.  "  You  ought  to  sleep  as 
much  as  possible  until  you  catch  this  New  York  pace.  It  will 
come  easier  after  a  while.  You  look  pretty  fresh,  I  must  say, 
after  your  various  dissipations." 

Southward  wore  an  evening  gown  of  a  white-figured,  white 
Chinese  silk.  Simple  like  all  of  her  clothes,  it  left  a  V  of  slim 
neck  bare,  came  into  the  waist  under  a  broad  girdle  made  from 
a  Koman  sash.  Her  hair  lay  flat  like  coiled  jet  close  to  her  head; 
about  her  neck  was  a  necklace  of  onyx  and  gold  and  pearl  which 
suspended  a  huge  locket;  on  her  wrist  was  a  wide  bracelet,  onyx 
and  gold  and  pearl.  The  new  look  in  her  eyes — that  sense  of 
perturbation — had  left  them  temporarily;  they  glimmered  with 
her  old-time  spirit  and  audacity.  Hester  looked  as  usual  incon 
spicuous.  Her  black  evening  gown,  though  innocuous,  had  the 
grace  of  simplicity ;  it  gave  her  a  look  of  womanliness.  Now,  with 
her  hat  off,  the  blaze  of  her  hair,  unsubdued  by  its  new  and  more 
becoming  arrangement,  was  brilliant  as  it  had  never  been. 

"  What  sort  of  a  party  is  this  going  to  be  ? "  Southward  ques 
tioned  on  their  way  to  the  car. 

"  Oh,  a  regular  New  York  party,"  Dwight  responded.  "  It  ought 
to  be  some  party  though,  because  we've  invited  everybody  that  we 
know  who's  worthy  to  meet  you.  But  it's  like  everything  that 
happens  in  New  York,  you  take  a  chance.  It  may  be  a  cracker- 
jack,  and  then  again  it  may  be  as  dull  as  ditch  water." 

"  What  will  they  do  ?  "  Southward  queried  further. 

"  Talk,  smoke,  eat,  dance,"  Dwight  answered  briefly.  "  They  all 
begin  alike,  but  Heaven  only  knows  how  they'll  end." 

On  their  way  down  town  to  a  street  below  Twenty-third  Street, 
he  told  them  about  the  building  in  which  he  and  John  lived.  He 
said  it  was  a  perfect  example  of  what  might  be  the  haphazard 
history  of  any  New  York  house.  Big  and  rather  splendid,  done 
by  a  famous  architect,  it  had  been  originally  the  property  of  a 
Westerner  grown  rich  in  a  day  in  Wall  Street.  Passing  before 

232 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  233 

his  death  into  other  hands,  it  had  been  the  scene  of  a  tragedy 
which  resulted  in  a  cause  celebre,  had  become  next  a  gambling 
house,  then  the  Parish  House  of  a  wealthy  and  influential  church. 
Now  almost  the  only  residential  building  in  a  community  of  ware 
houses,  it  had  been  cut  roughly  into  apartments  of  various  sizes. 
John  occupied  an  attic.  Dwight  had  a  pair  of  rooms  two  floors 
below. 

On  the  way  up  the  three  flights  of  stairs,  Dwight  pointed  out 
the  evidences  of  the  ecclesiastical  influence;  empty  niches,  racant 
recesses,  carved  and  arched  doorways,  the  windows  that  matched 
them.  Hester  listened  closely;  but  from  the  instant  the  sound 
of  the  victrola  met  them  on  the  stairway,  Southward's  attention 
left  the  walls  and  ceilings.  As  they  went  higher,  bursts  of 
talk  and  screams  of  laughter  came  to  them  borne  on  the  current 
of  ragtime  punctuated  by  the  popping  of  corks,  the  sizz  of 
syphons. 

John  came  forward  to  greet  them,  Azile  Morrow  on  one  side, 
Edith  Hale  on  the  other. 

Groups  of  people  who  sat  about  the  fireplace  on  chairs,  on 
couches,  on  the  floor,  looked  up  for  an  instant  and  then  went  on 
with  their  talk.  Three  couples  who  were  dancing  in  a  corner 
paid  no  attention  to  them  whatever.  Azile  and  Edith  helped  the 
girls  off  with  their  things.  John  returned  for  them  after  a  min 
ute's  interval,  introduced  them  to  the  members  of  the  fireside 
group.  Southward  melted  at  once  into  their  number,  as  much  a 
component  part  of  it  as  though  she  had  always  been  there.  She 
fell  naturally  into  conversation  with  a  trio  of  men  and  as  she 
talked,  quite  frankly  but  with  her  lightning  quick  glances,  she 
surveyed  the  room  and  the  people.  Hester  drew  close  to  Edith 
Hale,  all  but  clung  to  her.  Her  eyes  glued  themselves  to  Edith's 
face  as  though  if  they  left  that  harbour  of  refuge,  it  would  be  to 
psychological  shipwreck.  Perhaps  Edith  felt  that.  She  drew 
Hester  a  little  way  from  the  rest;  she  conducted  her  about  the 
room,  commenting  on  the  characteristic  glimpses  of  New  York 
living  that  the  windows  gave.  Finally  she  settled  with  her  on  a 
•couch  apart,  proceeded  to  talk. 

"  You  should  have  seen  this  room  at  the  time  of  the  unemploy 
ment  riots  last  winter.  John  used  to  bring  as  many  I.  W.  W.'s 
home  as  the  place  would  hold.  Sometimes  there  were  twenty 
sleeping  on  the  couches  and  chairs  and  floors — anywhere  they  could 
find  a  spot.  John  tells  some  awfully  funny  stories  about  them. 
There  was  one,  a  young  fellow " 

Her  gentle  voice  went  on  and  on,  soothing  her  companion's  em- 


234  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

barrassment  until  Hester  could  look  at  this  face  and  that  imper 
sonally  as  though  it  were  a  picture. 

The  room  was  large,  bare-looking,  unpapered,  plastered  white 
on  walls  and  ceilings  with  ecclesiastical  archings  at  the  four 
corners.  For  furnishings,  there  were  three  single  couches  (two 
of  these  had  been  drawn  up  close  to  the  fire),  a  huge  unpainted 
table  of  soft  pine,  a  few  chairs,  all  big,  shabby,  and  comfortable. 
The  table  was  covered  with  bottles  of  whiskey,  brandy,  and  beer, 
syphons  of  soda,  boxes  of  cigars  and  cigarettes.  A  big  pine  and 
burlap  screen,  apparently  of  home  manufacture,  shut  off  a  corner. 
There  was  not  a  picture  on  the  wall,  nothing  anywhere  that  could 
be  construed  as  ornament,  except  the  piles  of  magazines  and  books 
which  had  been  apparently  dumped  from  the  table  on  the  floor 
and  one  statue  in  coloured  plaster  of  the  Virgin,  which  stood  in 
a  niche  in  the  wall.  The  big  fire  in  the  generous  fireplace  gave 
the  room  a  soul,  and  the  couches  its  single  look  of  comfort.  The 
gathering  brought  plenty  of  contrast  to  this  ascetic  whiteness, 
however.  Many  of  the  women  were  in  evening  dress.  Sitting 
about  on  the  floor  they  made  flower-bed  spots  of  brilliant  colour. 

"  You  see  that  little  blond  girl  over  there  in  the  corner,"  Edith's 
soft  listless  voice  was  saying.  "  She's  Angela  Ade.  She's  a  suf 
fragette — a  militant.  She  gives  very  successful  street  talks  on 
suffrage  and  she's  always  going  off  on  suffrage  hikes;  she's  a  lovely 
little  thing,  though  fiery.  By  and  by  I  want  to  call  her  over 
here." 

"  Street  talks ! "  Hester  said  in  an  awed  tone.  "  That  little 
girl!" 

"  Yes,"  Edith  answered,  "  that  little  girl.  She  talks  from  soap 
boxes  on  street  corners — oh,  it's  just  as  wonderful  to  me,  Hester, 
as  it  is  to  you.  I  simply  could  not  do  anything  like  that."  Edith 
paused  and  skipped  to  another  group,  picking  her  exhibits  at 
haphazard  apparently.  "  The  big  girl — the  brunette — is  Ruthie 
Stanley.  She's  assistant  editor  on  Progress.  She's  a  college 
graduate,  very  able,  a  strong  type,  a  little  too  masculine  for  my 
taste  though." 

Hester  looked  at  Miss  Stanley. 

She  was  masculine  if  masculinity  means  a  certain  big  clean- 
cutness  of  featuring.  And  certainly  her  fresh  crisp  shirt-waist 
and  her  taut  trim  tailored  suit  presented  every  possible  contrast 
to  Edith's  floating  feminine  fulnesses. 

•'  I  should  not  say  she  looked  masculine  exactly,"  Hester  com 
mented,  "  only  responsible  and  efficient." 

"  Perhaps  you're  right,"  Edith  assented.     "  The  little  bronze- 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  235 

coloured  girl  next  to  her  is  Jane  Daly.  She's  an  actress.  Isn't 
she  a  charming  little  thing?  Don't  you  love  her  eyes?  And  isn't 
her  figure  adorable  ?  " 

Edith  waited  for  no  answer  to  her  questions.  She  seemed  to 
assume  assent  and  speeded  on.  "  She's  very  able  and  works  hard. 
She's  awfully  ambitious.  If  she  gets  half  a  chance,  she'll  do 
something."  Again  ignoring  the  rest  of  the  group,  Edith  picked 
apparently  at  random  another  type.  "  The  woman  on  the  other 
side  of  the  room  in  the  morris  chair — notice  her  lovely  fresh 
colour — is  Jimmy  Tench.  She's  a  press  agent,"  and  at  Hester's 
gasp,  "  yes,  and  a  very  able  one.  Somehow  I  always  feel  very 
insignificant  beside  Jimmy.  She  knows  the  world  as  a  man  does 
and  treats  it  as  a  man  does.  She  meets  men  on  a  basis  of 
camaraderie  that  I  very  much  admire  in  her  and  yet  have  no  desire 
whatever  to  emulate.  Isn't  she  a  clean-looking  vigorous  type 
though,  with  that  complexion,  those  big  strong-looking  teeth,  those 
huge  clear  eyes?  Not  exactly  handsome — she  just  escapes  being 
handsome — but  there's  something  awfully  refreshing  about  Jimmy." 

"  Yes,"  Hester  hazarded  again,  "  somehow  I  feel  less  afraid  of 
her  than  anybody." 

"  You'll  like  her  more  and  more,  I  think.  Everybody  likes 
Jimmy.  Now  I'll  tell  you  about  some  of  the  men.  Many  of  them 
are  reporters.  Those  two  talking  with  Azile  are  from  the  Planet 
— Dwight's  paper.  McAndrews  is  one  of  the  cleverest  newspaper 
men  in  New  York.  He's  the  red-headed  one.  The  little  handsome 
man  beside  him  is  an  illustrator,  Tim  Carney." 

"  Oh,  I  know  his  work,"  Hester  said.  There  was  a  slight  em 
phasis  on  the  word  "  know  "  as  of  relief  at  finding  some  detail  at 
which  her  mind  could  catch. 

"  He's  awfully  popular.  The  two  men  on  the  other  side  of  the 
fire,  talking  together,  are  Schalberg  and  Van  Vlagger.  They're 
from  John's  forces  on  Tomorrow.  You  must  get  to  know  them. 
Schalberg  has  a  very  brilliant  mind,  I  think.  It  has  all  the 
metallic  hardness  of  the  Hebraic  intelligence  and  yet  there's  a 
kind  of  flame — a  kind  of  poetry  of  expression — playing  over  his 
observation.  Van  Vlagger  is  a  bubbling  personality,  much  less 
intellectual,  but  very  whimsical  and  paradoxical.  Would  you  like 
me  to  call  one  of  them  over  here  ?  " 

Hester  caught  her  arm.    "  Not — not  yet.    And  don't  leave  me !  " 

Edith  smiled.  "  Very  well.  I'll  stay  with  you  all  the  evening. 
You  shan't  have  to  talk  unless  you  want,  but  you'll  find  every 
body  simple  and  nice  and  full  of  conversation.  The  thing  to  do  is 
to  let  them  talk.  But  I  don't  have  to  tell  you  that.  John  says 


236  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

you're  one  of  the  most  gifted  listeners  he  ever  met.  That  little 
blond  lad  over  there  is  a  physician — one  of  John's  I.  W.  W.  friends. 
They  call  him  '  the  Jungle  Doc.'  Now — oh,  here's  Ripley." 

"  Well,  Hester,"  Fearing  asked,  dropping  on  the  couch  beside 
her,  "  how  is  New  York  treating  you  ?  Let  me  look  at  you.  I 
haven't  had  a  chance  before."  He  turned  his  melancholy  hound's 
eyes  directly  on  her  for  a  moment.  "  It  seems  to  me  that  you're 
looking  pretty  well  for  a  girl  who  was  ill  a  few  weeks  ago." 

"  I'm  sure  I  should  think  that  I  felt  better  already,"  Hester 
said,  "  if  I  could  think  at  all.  But  I  can't  think.  We've  only 
been  here  two  days  and  everything  is  still  going  at  such  a  pace 
that  I'm  excited  all  the  time,  even  when  I  sleep.  I  guess  I  must 
be  better  though  because  I  don't  think  of  it." 

"  I  think  you  are  too,"  Fearing  agreed.  He  removed  his  gaze 
from  her  face,  but  from  time  to  time  it  went  back.  "Did  you 
keep  on  dancing  ? "  he  asked. 

"  Oh,  yes — all  the  fall  and  winter.  Sometimes  Southward  and 
I  would  dance  all  alone  in  the  garret." 

"  I'm  glad  of  that,"  Ripley  approved.  "  Oh,  here's  John,  and 
time  he  welcomed  me." 

"  Hello,  Rip."  John  slipped  into  the  place  that  on  Ripley's 
advent  Edith  had  vacated.  "  How  do  you  feel  after  your  various 
dissipations,  Hester  ? " 

"  Very  well,"  Hester  answered.  "  I  haven't  had  such  sleep  in 
months  as  last  night — or  this  morning  rather.  When  I  went 
to  bed,  I  seemed  to  fall  straight  down  into  a  deep  dark  well. 
Southward  waked  me  once.  But  I  fell  into  the  well  again  and 
I  stayed  there  till  about  five  this  afternoon.  I  never  slept  all 
day  before  in  my  life." 

"You'll  find  yourself  doing  that  often  in  New  York,"  John 
warned  her. 

"  Oh,  by  the  way,  how  is  Hallowell  ? "  Fearing  asked. 

"  Very  well,"  Hester  said.  "  He  came  to  see  me  one  afternoon 
when  I  was  sick  and  brought  me  one  of  his  revolutionary  Italian 
papers  and  read  for  my  comfort — translating  as  he  went  along — 
a  very  gory  account  of  a  labour  riot  in  Turin." 

The  men  laughed.  "  Nice  old  boy !  "  exclaimed  John.  "  I've 
been  sending  him  Tomorrow  regularly  and  anything  else  I  could 
get  of  a  sufficiently  revolutionary  character.  It's  interesting  to 
think  of  him  down  there,  Rip,"  he  went  on  musingly,  "  in  that 
dead  little  town,  blue-blooded,  steeped  in  centuries  of  New  England 
culture,  ex-sky  pilot  with  a  finger  on  every  revolutionary  move 
ment  in  the  world." 


THE  LADY  OP  KINGDOMS  237 

"  Oh,  yes,  it's  bully,"  agreed  Fearing.  "  I  appreciate  that.  And 
how  is  The  Rebellions  of  the  Nineteenth  Century  coming  on?" 
He  turned  to  Hester. 

"  It  seems  to  be  progressing,"  Hester  answered.  "  He  works 
hard  all  the  time.  Of  course  after  you  two  had  left,  he  tried  more 
and  more  to  convert  Southward  and  me  to  his  ideas.  He  used  to 
bring  chapters  over  and  read  them  to  me  while  I  was  sick.  South 
ward  only  laughed — the  way  she  always  does — she  doesn't  care. 
I  cared — but  I  was  too  frightened — the  way  I  always  am." 

"  We're  going  to  cure  you  of  that  fright,  Hester,"  Eipley  prom 
ised. 

"  I  hope  so,"  Hester  said,  "  but  I'm  afraid  not.  I  fear  it  is  too 
deep-rooted." 

"  I  don't,"  disagreed  Ripley.  "  Ah,  excuse  me !  "  He  rose  and 
crossed  the  room  in  answer  to  Jimmy  Tench's  beckoning  finger. 

"  How  do  you  think  Edith  looks,  Hester?  "  John  asked. 

Edith  was  seated  on  the  floor  now,  her  long  nearly  bare  arms 
clasped  and  hanging  over  the  fulness  of  her  dull  green  gown.  She 
sat  in  the  flare  of  the  firelight;  when  it  flamed  it  gave  her  skin 
an  adventitious  rose-in-bloom  colour;  when  it  died,  her  face 
turned  waxy. 

"  I  don't  think  she  looks  well,"  Hester  said  at  once.  "  Not 
nearly  as  well  as  when  she  was  in  Shayneford." 

"  You're  right,"  John  agreed.  His  brow  knit.  For  an  interval, 
he  sat  regardless  of  Hester,  his  eyes  fixed  on  Edith  with  the  look 
of  a  man  who  is  trying  to  solve  a  problem. 

Hester  slowly  transferred  her  gaze  from  Edith  to  John.  He 
had  not  changed  appreciably  in  five  months,  although  he  had  of 
course  lost  all  his  Shayneford  tan.  But  at  this  moment,  he  was 
as  far  removed  as  possible  from  his  usual  easy  self.  His  pose 
had  lost  its  normal  negligent  grace.  His  pleasant  smile  had  gone. 
He  looked  awkward,  doubled  up,  his  head  protruded  and  his  eyes 
fixed.  All  that  inner  tumult  which  ordinarily  showed  only  in 
faint  marks  here  and  there  had  burst  in  flame  into  his  expression. 
It  was  as  though  his  youth  were  torn  by  furies,  and  torn  before 
her  eyes. 

"  I  don't  know  what  it  is,"  he  muttered.  Then  in  a  flash  he 
pulled  himself  together,  relaxed  into  a  characteristic  easy  pose.  His 
pleasant  smile  came  back.  "  I'm  worried  about  Edith,  Hester. 
She  seems  to  get  paler  and  paler  every  day." 

"I'm  worried  too,"  Hester  admitted.  Their  eyes  met  in  the 
sympathy  of  their  common  anxiety. 


238  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Morena  O'Eeilly  settled  himself  at  Southward's  side. 

"  Well,  missie,''  he  began  mischievously,  "  we  meet  again.  You 
remember  I  told  you  we  would." 

"Did  you?"  Southward's  tone  was  languid;  so  was  her  pose. 
But  into  her  figure  came  a  certain  tenseness  as  though,  cowering 
against  an  attack,  she  had  suddenly  stiffened  to  meet  it.  "  When — 
I  don't  remember — 

Morena  laughed.  "  Oh,  yes,  you  do.  You  remember  per 
fectly."  The  Celt  was  all  in  the  ascendant  in  Morena  now. 
His  deep-blue,  heavily-fringed  eyes  sparkled  and  under  his  jetty 
moustache  a  smile,  almost  equally  sparkling,  re-enforced  them. 
It  was  impossible  to  withstand  that  spirit  of  mischief. 

Southward  smiled  with  him  and  the  rigidity  went  out  of  her 
figure. 

"  I'm  glad  you're  here,"  Morena  went  on.  "  You  are  more  pretty 
than  ever  and  I've  no  doubt  twice  as  fascinating.  I'd  like  nothing 
better  than  to  get  an  account  of  your  conquests  since  last  we 
met.  But  of  course  you  will  never  give  me  that.  Come,  let's  be 
good  friends — and  comrades !  Will  you  let  me  show  you  about 
New  York  a  bit?" 

"  Of  course,  Mr.  O'Reilly.  I  shall  be  delighted.  I  may  even 
tell  you  about  the  conquests.  Who  knows?  If  I  can  remember 
any  of  them."  Southward  continued  to  maintain  her  languor  of 
voice,  her  languor  of  pose.  Her  eyes  lingered  non-commitally  on 
Morena's  face. 

That  gentleman  laughed  abruptly.  "  By  Jove,  you're  a  cool 
one.  Shake  hands  with  me!  You  haven't  shaken  hands  with  me 
yet." 

After  a  perceptible  instant  of  hesitation  Southward  extended 
her  hand.  Morena  held  it  a  brief  instant. 

"  What  are  you  two  shaking  hands  about  ? "  Azile  called  from 
a  distance.  She  rose  and  came  over  to  where  they  sat.  With  a 
sudden  impulse,  subtle  as  it  was  sudden,  she  subsided  into  a  black- 
and-gold  heap  on  the  floor.  The  firelight  ran  over  the  sequined 
traceries  of  her  gown,  broke  out  in  flame,  turned  her  ccral  earrings 
to  drops  of  blood.  "  You  met  last  night,  you  know." 

"  Election  bet,  Azile,"  Morena  said  carelessly. 

"  How  I  loathe  you,  Morena,"  Azile  emitted  crossly.  "  You 
always  lie  to  me  and  I  always  know  it." 

"  We're  alike  in  that,"  Morena  explained  pleasantly.  "  You 
always  lie  to  me  and  I  always  lie  to  you.  But  I  think  you're 
rather  unfair,  Azile.  I  don't  hate  you  because  you  lie  to  me.  I 
rather  like  you  for  it." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  239 

"  Well,  I  don't  like  you  for  it.  Lying  is  the  one  thing  women 
never  forgive  in  men,  Morena,"  Azile  informed  him. 

"  I  suppose  so,"  Morena  said  in  a  resigned  tone.  "  Miss  Drake 
looks  perfectly  natural  here,  doesn't  she  ? "  he  went  on  fluently, 
changing  the  subject.  "  She  belongs  wherever  she  falls.  Now  Miss 
Crowell  has  every  defence  out  and  every  terror." 

Southward's  eyes  softened.  "  Oh,  Hester'll  be  all  right  in  time. 
Hester  clings  to  her  environment  however  much  it  frightens  her. 
The  instant  she  gets  anywhere,  she  begins  sending  out  roots,  until 
presently  she's  growing  there.  I  feel  perfectly  at  home  in  new 
places.  Sometimes  they  seem  more  natural  than  old  places.  But 
I  don't  want  to  stay.  I  don't  know  anything  I  enjoy  more  than 
tearing  myself  up  by  the  roots." 

Her  listener  smiled.  "  That's  right ! "  Morena  applauded. 
"  That's  fine !  " 

"  What's  right,"  Dwight  demanded,  interrupting  from  over 
Azile's  shoulder,  "and  what's  fine?" 

"  Miss  Drake  says,"  Morena  translated  freely,  "  that  the  farther 
from  home  she  gets,  the  more  at  home  she  feels.  And  the  better 
she  likes  a  place,  the  sooner  she  wants  to  leave  it." 

"  Oh,  I  could  see  she  belonged,"  Dwight  said,  "  the  instant  I 
met  her  at  the  Grand  Central.  She  took  possession  of  the  city 
right  then  and  there.  I  got  her  out  of  the  station  before  it  oc 
curred  to  her  to  order  everybody  off  the  premises.  Now  what  are 
we  going  to  do  to  show  the  city  to  these  captive  princesses  ? " 

"  She's  coming  up  to  my  place  for  the  week-end,"  Azile  inter 
posed  promptly,  "  and  Hester's  going  with  Edith.  Edith  and  I 
have  decided  that  between  us.  It's  settled." 

"  Is  it  ?  "  Dwight  demanded  from  Southward. 

Southward  smiled.    "  It  seems  so." 

"  Come  to  dinner  Sunday  night — you  two,"  Azile  ordered  of 
Dwight  and  Morena. 

"  Thanks !  "  Morena  answered  with  promptness  and  "  All  right !  " 
Dwight  replied  with  alacrity. 

"  Oh,  by  the  way,  Dwight,"  Azile  added  carelessly,  "  I  want 
you  to  take  me  to  see  that  Goya.  I  know  you'll  want  to  sleep 
to-morrow  morning.  Can  you  be  around  Wednesday  about 
eleven?" 

"  All  right,"  Dwight  answered  again.  But  perhaps  thij  time 
there  was  less  alacrity  in  his  tone. 

"  Oh — and  say,  Dwight,"  Azile  went  on,  "  I  want  you  to  go  to 
that  Sherman  auction  with  me.  It's  Thursday  morning.  You 
remember  you  were  awfully  interested  to  see  those  old  French 


240  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

things  that  are  coming  up  for  sale.  It's  your  day  off.  If  you'll 
promise  to  get  to  the  house  by  ten,  I'll  promise  to  make  the  effort 
to  get  up  at  nine." 

"  All  right !  "  Dwight  answered  the  third  time.  But  he  said  this 
after  an  interval  in  which,  biting  his  lip,  he  palpably  considered 
the  matter.  He  became  a  little  distrait.  An  irritated  frown 
grooved  his  forehead. 

"  See  here,  I  want  to  talk  with  Miss  Drake  for  a  moment," 
Angela  Ade  interrupted.  "  I  have  to  be  on  the  job  everlastingly, 
you  know.  And  all  unknown  females  are  fish  to  my  net.  So  let 
me  get  this  off  my  chest.  Now  first,  do  you  believe  in  equal  suf 
frage,  Miss  Drake  ? " 

"  I  suppose  I  do.  But  I'm  not  the  least  bit  interested  in  the 
question." 

"Well,  will  you  march  in  the  parade  in  May?  We  need  you 
if  you  can  do  it." 

"  Yes,  I'll  agree  to  that— if  I'm  here." 

"  All  right.     Make  out  this  card." 

Miss  Ade  handed  Southward  a  yellow  card  and  a  pencil.  She 
watched  her  while  she  wrote.  "  Can  you  make  speeches  on 
corners  ? "  she  asked. 

"  I  could  if  I  wanted  to — but  I  don't,"  Southward  answered. 

"  Well,  can  you  address  indoor  meetings  ?  " 

"  I  could  if  I  wanted  to,"  Southward  answered  again,  "  but  I 
don't." 

"  Would  you  sell  magazines  for  us  on  the  street  ? "  Miss  Ade 
continued  with  undiminished  zeal. 

"  Yes,  I'll  do  that." 

"  Hear,  hear !  "  Jimmy  Tench  interrupted,  kneeling  at  South 
ward's  side.  "  Give  me  a  show  here,  Angel.  Miss  Drake,  some 
of  my  East  Side  girls  are  on  strike.  They  need  pickets.  Will 
you  help  them  out  ? " 

"Sure!"  Southward's  eyes  sparkled.  "I'd  lore  that.  Whal 
is  a  picket  and  what  does  it  do  ? " 

Miss  Tench  explained.  "  I'll  telephone  you  some-  day  this  week 
in  the  morning.  Wait  a  jiff  and  let  me  take  your  address  and 
telephone  number." 

"  Now,  Jimmy,"  Miss  Ade  continued,  "  let's  go  over  and  ask 
Miss  Crowell." 

The  rest  of  the  group  in  the  spirit  of  mischief  watched  their 
onslaught  on  Hester,  the  brisk  business-like  attitude  of  the  two 
New  York  women,  Hester's  dumb  terrors,  her  inarticulate  nega 
tions. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  241 

In  the  meantime,  more  and  more  people  were  arriving.  The 
room  had  begun  to  fill  up.  There  were  not  enough  chairs  to 
accommodate  them,  although  chairs  were  brought  in  from  other 
rooms.  They  sat  around  on  the  floor,  their  backs  against  the  walls. 
In  the  centre  people  danced.  The  ragtime  roar  of  the  victrola 
was  uninterrupted.  The  sizz  of  the  soda  syphons  sounded  con 
stantly.  The  atmosphere  grew  thick  with  smoke;  platters  of 
sandwiches  appeared  from  behind  the  screen,  baskets  of  cheese; 
plates  of  pickles  and  olives;  tins  of  sardines;  all  the  treasures  of 
the  neighbouring  delicatessen.  Under  cover  of  this  confusion, 
Dwight  drew  Southward  aside.  "  Say,  get  on  your  things,  will 
you  ? "  he  asked.  "  I  want  to  take  you  for  a  little  walk.  New 
York  is  very  pretty,  right  round  here."  For  a  long  interval  now, 
Dwight  had  maintained  silence,  obviously  irritated.  At  that  mo 
ment  his  voice  was  querulous. 

"  All  right,"  Southward  agreed.  She  slipped  surreptitiously 
into  her  hat  and  coat. 

"  First,"  Dwight  said,  "  I'm  going  to  show  you  my  rooms."  He 
led  the  way  two  flights  down;  unlocked  a  door  near  the  back  of 
the  house. 

Southward  paused  on  the  threshold  an  instant;  threw  into  the 
room  one  of  her  sweeping  comprehensive  looks;  burst  into 
laughter. 

"  What's  the  idea  ?  "  Dwight  demanded. 

"  Oh,  it's  so  different  from  John's  rooms,"  Southward  declared, 
"  as  different  as  you  two  men  are  from  each  other." 

Certainly  none  of  the  monastic  bareness  and  whiteness 
which  marked  John's  quarters  appeared  in  Dwight's  big  living- 
room  or  the  adjoining  bedroom.  There  was  plenty  of  colour  and 
decoration;  detail.  Red  predominated  in  rugs,  curtains,  and  up 
holstery.  Just  as  cheer  seemed  the  object  of  the  colour-scheme,  so 
comfort  seemed  the  aim  of  the  furniture.  The  chairs  were  all 
big,  the  couch  broad  and  piled  with  cushions.  Everywhere, 
framed  photographs  of  girls  on  walls  and  mantels,  decorative 
hand-made  litter  on  book-shelves  and  tables,  were  evidences  of 
Dwight's  popularity  with  women.  A  certain  bold  simplicity  in 
the  furniture  minimised  this  feminine  strain.  Dwight  lit  a 
cigarette  and  smoked  in  silence.  Southward  flitted  from  wall  to 
wall,  looking  at  the  pictures,  examining  the  books;  making  occa 
sional  comment  but  asking  no  questions.  Dwight  volunteered  no 
information. 

When  they  came  out  on  the  street,  what  remained  of  South 
ward's  high  spirits  had  quite  evaporated.  Dwight  was  still  moody. 


242  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

They  walked  south,  talking  soberly  and  with  long  pauses,  of  indif 
ferent  things. 

"  How  pretty  this  is ! "  Southward  said,  breaking  a  silence. 
"Park  Avenue  looks  like  Commonwealth  Avenue  but  this  looks 
like  Beacon  Street." 

"  Oh,  yes,  the  neighbourhood  of  lower  Fifth  Avenue  and  the 
Square  is  much  the  most  attractive  part  of  town  in  my  opinion," 
Dwight  answered  absently.  "  There,  there's  the  Washington  Arch. 
Isn't  that  pretty  nice  ?  " 

But  neither  of  them  more  than  glanced  at  the  Arch ;  for  without 
awaiting  an  answer,  Dwight  demanded  suddenly,  "  Have  you 
forgotten  our  compact?  You  gave  me  the  New  York  rights,  you 
know."  His  voice  had  changed.  It  was  querulous  again. 

"  Oh,  no,"  Southward  replied.    "  I  haven't  forgotten." 

"  Well,  see  that  you  don't." 

"  Oh,  I'll  keep  the  compact — until  it  bores  me,"  Southward's 
voice  had  become  light. 

11  I'll  take  care  not  to  bore  you,"  Dwight  promised  stiffly. 

"  See  that  you  don't,"  Southward  mimicked  him. 

"  Which  reminds  me,"  Dwight  went  on,  "  that  I  have  certainly 
been  bored  proper  this  day  by  your  friends  Ely  and  Home.  They've 
been  telephoning  me  at  half -hour  intervals  all  the  afternoon.  One 
wanted  your  address  and  the  other  your  name.  I  said  of  course 
that  I  couldn't  give  them  without  your  permission.  And  they 
besought  me  to  get  your  permission.  Shall  I  give  it  to  them  ? " 

"  No,"  Southward  replied  promptly. 

"  All  right."    Dwight  looked  relieved. 

"  Or  at  least  not  yet,"  Southward  mitigated  her  first  decision. 

Now  they  looked  at  the  Arch;  even  crossed  the  street  to  make 
a  closer  examination  after  they  had  viewed  it  from  the  Avenue. 
Suddenly  they  were  both  very  light-hearted.  Standing  in  the 
Square,  Dwight  gave  Southward  a  little  history  of  the  neigh 
bourhood,  pointing  out  various  sections  of  interest  with  his  stick; 
the  row  of  formal  houses  in  varying  shades  of  rose  on  the  north 
side  with  their  deep  white  doorways  and  their  beautiful  vines; 
the  more  bohemian  row  at  the  south  with  its  shops  and  studios; 
the  bachelor  apartments,  east,  where  a  famous  novelist  had  laid 
a  famous  scene  in  a  famous  book;  McDougal  Alley  to  the  west 
with  its  array  of  studios.  Something  unexpressed  seemed  to  come 
out  of  their  talk  beside  all  this  information  and  the  comment  on 
it;  for  they  laughed  gaily  at  anything  that  offered  the  faintest 
pretext  for  mirth  and  interrupted  themselves  constantly  to  talk 
about  other  things.  Before  they  returned  to  the  party,  Dwight  took 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  243 

her  for  an  abbreviated  yoyage  of  discovery  about  the  neighbour 
hood.  Tucking  her  arm  in  his,  drawing  her  along  at  a  furious 
pace,  he  poured  out  on  her  a  wild  medley  of  mingled  narrative 
and  description  of  what  he  called  the  "  village "  and  the  "  vil 
lagers." 

"  By  the  way,"  Southward  asked  as  they  turned  back,  "  tell  ma 
now  about  the  novel." 

"  The  novel!  "  Dwight  said,  "which  one?  I  told  you,  didn't  I, 
that  the  Cape  Cod  one — sort  of  petered  out?  I  realised,  when  I 
got  away  from  there,  that  what  you  said  was  true.  I  hadn't  got 
under  the  skin  of  those  people  at  all.  At  first  that  discouraged 
me  a  lot  and  I  decided  to  put  it  aside.  Then  I  began  another. 
I've  been  working  on  it  up  at  Azile's.  She's  been  a  great  deal  of 
help.  I've  had  a  lot  of  assignments  on  the  East  Side  and  I  got  aw 
fully  interested  in  the  life  there.  An  idea  came  to  me  some  weeks 
ago  and  I've  been  working  on  it  on  and  off  ever  since.  I've  read 
all  of  it  to  Azile  and  she  seems  enthusiastic  about  it.  I'm  inclined 
to  trust  to  her  judgment  because,  like  you,  she  nerer  was  strong 
for  the  Cape  Cod  novel.  I'll  read  it  to  you  some  time.  First 
though  I'm  going  to  take  you  over  to  the  East  Side.  Oh,  I've 
got  a  campaign  of  discovery  and  exploration  mapped  out  for  you 
that  will  make  your  hair  curl — you  ignorant  little  country-girl 
you." 


CHAPTER  IV 

WHEN  Southward  and  Dwight  returned  to  John's  room,  it  was 
to  a  party  much  more  crowded,  much  more  noisy,  much  more 
permeated  with  smoke.  People  were  arriving  all  the  time.  The 
couches  had  been  moved  back  against  the  wall,  the  chairs  had 
disappeared.  The  dancers  filled  the  entire  room.  Those  who 
wished  to  sit  down  had  retreated  to  the  halls  and  stairways. 
There  was  no  break  between  dances,  as  whenever  the  victrola 
threatened  to  run  down  someone  inserted  a  new  needle.  When 
anybody  thought  of  it  the  disk  was  changed.  Dwight  drew 
Southward  into  the  melee  and  they  danced  until  their  enduring 
powers  began  to  call  forth  comment  derisive  and  otherwise.  Even 
their  extraordinary  strength  and  spirit  were  not  proof  against  the 
violence  of  the  exercise  and  the  heaviness  of  the  air;  finally  as 
though  by  mutual  consent  they  came  to  a  standstill.  Dwight  got 
some  ginger  ale  for  Southward  and  some  whiskey  and  soda  for 
himself.  They  retired  to  the  stairs,  but  they  were  not  allowed  to 
remain  there  long.  Azile  and  Morena  hunted  them  up  presently. 
Morena  claimed  a  dance  from  Southward  and  Dwight  whirled 
away  with  Azile. 

"Where  did  you  disappear  to?"  Morena  asked  idly. 

"  Oh,  Dwight  took  me  about  for  a  little  walk,"  Southward  an 
swered  with  equal  carelessness.  "  He  wanted  to  show  me  this 
neighbourhood." 

"  It's  a  pleasant  neighbourhood,"  Morena  commented.  "  Every 
body  will  tell  you  that  it's  more  like  Paris  than  any  part  of  New 
York,  and  really  it's  the  only  place  in  New  York  that  has  anything 
like  an  art  atmosphere." 

"  Yes.    Dwight  told  me  a  little  of  that." 

"  There  are  lots  of  interesting  places  in  New  York  that  I  want 
to  show  you,"  Morena  went  on,  "  picturesque,  foreign  aspects  less 
obviously  interesting  perhaps.  Sometimes  I  think  it  takes  a  man 
who  has  lived  so  much  abroad  as  myself  to  appreciate  all  that. 
You  know  for  instance  that  New  York  is  the  third  largest  Italian 
city  in  the  world  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  know  that,"  Southward  declared.  "  But  I  am  inter 
ested  to  hear  it." 

244 


THE  LADY  OP  KINGDOMS  245 

"  Yes.  Only  Naples  and  Milan  are  bigger  than  New  York's 
Little  Italy.  There's  a  Little  Italy  uptown  and  a  Little  Italy 
downtown.  I  want  to  show  them  both  to  you.  Then  there's 
always  the  East  Side,  an  amusing  little  Chinatown  and  a  German 
quarter;  even  a  Syrian  quarter.  I'll  take  you  to  them  all  if  you'd 
like." 

"  I  should  like,"  Southward  said  with  what  was  for  her  an  accent 
of  graciousness.  "  Thank  you  very  much.  By  the  way  what's 
become  of  Hester  ?  And  what  has  she  been  doing  all  this  time  ? " 

"  I  think  she's  having  a  good  time,"  Morena  replied.  "  She's 
been  dancing.  Then  she  and  Edith  went  upstairs  on  the  roof  to 
look  at  the  city.  I  think  they're  together  somewhere  now." 

Edith  and  Hester  were  sitting  together  on  one  of  the  couches, 
partially  protected  by  a  screen.  All  the  evening  Edith  had  hovered 
in  Hester's  vicinity.  Whenever  a  man  approached,  she  introduced 
him  to  Hester  and  then  with  her  usual  kindness  carried  on  the 
conversation  single-handed,  gradually  though,  by  comment  or  by 
indirect  appeal,  drawing  Hester  into  the  discussion.  As  soon  as 
she  had  overcome  Hester's  shyness  completely,  she  disappeared, 
always  coming  to  the  rescue  however  when  the  tete-a-tete  threat 
ened  to  break. 

"Who  are  those  people  who  have  just  come  in,  Edith?"  Hester 
had  just  asked.  "  Some  of  the  girls  have  short  hair.  How  queer- 
looking  they  are !  "  she  added  slowly  and  then  with  a  burst,  "  Why, 
they're  beautiful !  " 

"  They're  some  of  the  villagers,"  Edith  answered.  And  then  at 
Hester's  look  of  perplexity,  "  You  must  have  heard  us  speak  of 
Greenwich  Village — the  Latin  quarter  of  New  York  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes — many  times,"  Hester  said.  "  John  says  Greenwich 
Village  is  the  only  place  in  New  York  where  people  dress  as  they 
like,  work  as  they  like,  live  as  they  like,  and  love  as  they  like." 

"  They  certainly  love  as  they  like,"  Edith  said,  laughing,  "  and 
occasionally  that  means  loving  quite  frequently  and  sometimes 
several  people  at  once." 

"  And  do  they  all  wear  short  hair  ?  "  Hester  went  on. 

"  No,  Country  Girl,"  Edith  responded,  "  not  all.  Mainly  those 
to  whom  it  is  becoming  as  everywhere  else.  Isn't  that  little  one 
in  brown  cunning?" 

"  Yes,"  Hester  said.  "  I've  been  looking  at  her.  It  seems  to 
me  I've  never  seen  anybody  so  little  and  so  perfect.  She's  all 
one  colour,  isn't  she — golden  hair,  golden  skin,  golden  eyes  ?  " 

"  They  call  her  the  Golden  Girl,"  Edith  explained.  "  She's  a 
model.  The  tall  thin  colourless  woman  in  grey,  Miss  Ainsworth, 


246  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

has  used  her  again  and  again  for  a  series  of  what  she  calls  '  Peacock 
Studies '  in  which  she  is  always  dressed  in  peacock's  plumes.  The 
contrast  of  her  nude  golden  skin  and  the  green  and  the  blue  of 
the  peacock  eyes  is  really  quite  marvellous.  I'll  take  you  to  see 
the  Peacock  Studies  some  day."  Edith  waited  a  minute,  then  she 
added  in  a  casual  tone,  "  Miss  Ainsworth  lives  with  that  young 
man,  the  tall  slender  blond.  His  name  is  Loftus." 

"  Lives  with  him !  "  Hester  said  in  a  shocked  tone.  "  You  mean 
they  aren't  married."  And  at  Edith's  nod,  "  Does  everybody  know 
it?" 

"  It's  everybody's  own  fault  if  they  don't,"  Edith  responded. 
"  Miss  Ainsworth  tells  everybody.  And  they're  a  very  hospitable 
couple — they  give  parties  all  the  time." 

"  Why  don't  they  marry  ?  "  Hester  asked  in  a  breathless  tone. 

"  They  say  they  don't  want  to  marry,"  Edith  answered. 

"  How  very — very "  Hester  seemed  to  have  difficulty  in  find 
ing  words ;  she  ended  lamely  with,  "  strange." 

"  The  crowd  that  has  just  come  in,"  Edith  went  on  fluently, 
as  though  giving  Hester  time  to  recbver  from  the  mental  bewilder 
ment  into  which  she  had  plunged,  "  is  a  very  delightful  one;  they're 
all  young,  all  gay,  most  of  them  beautiful,  and  some  of  them 
gifted.  The  tall  blond  girl  with  the  wonderful  Greek  face,  the 
one  in  profile  now — doesn't  she  look  more  like  a  youth  than  a  girl — 
is  a  painter.  One  spring  the  villagers  got  up  a  marvellous  pageant 
and  she  was  Diana.  I  wish  you  could  have  seen  her  in  a  drapery 
of  pink  gauze  with  a  crescent  in  that  wonderful  hair,  a  silver  bow 
and  arrow  and  a  great  greyhound  at  her  side.  Do  you  see  the 
slim  dark  girl  beside  her  with  the  huge  soft  black  eyes?  When 
she  turns,  try  to  get  her  profile;  the  boldness  of  it  is  magnificent, 
I  think.  She's  a  dancer.  You'll  find  her  the  most  beautiful 
dancer  in  the  room,  but  curiously  enough  I  prefer  to  watch  her 
when  she  walks  and  talks.  She  is  so  graceful  then  that  it  almost 
hurts.  She  was  Cleopatra " 

"  Cleopatra,"  Hester  echoed,  but  it  was  apparent  that  her  mind 
was  not  on  its  concept  of  Cleopatra,  that  it  was  straying  along 
other  fields.  She  roused  herself  with  a  perceptible  effort.  "  Cleo 
patra,  I  can't  imagine  her  being  Cleopatra." 

"  She  wasn't  the  usual  idea  of  Cleopatra,"  Edith  elucidated, 
"  but  she  was  wonderful.  Nothing  of  the  conventional  houri  or 
odalisque.  No  floating  transparent  draperies  and  tiger  skin.  No 
jewelled  bracelets  and  anklets.  She  wore  a  strange  close  gown, 
with  Egyptian  figures  on  it  that  bound  her  figure  almost  like  a 
mummy's  and  a  high  broad  flat  Egyptian  headpiece.  With  those 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  247 

huge  eyes  of  hers  and  that  clear  colourless  skin,  her  lips 
painted  a  deep  purple  red  and  her  long  slim  bare  arms — oh,  she 
was  marvellous." 

"  Is  she  an  Egyptian  ?  "  Hester  asked  timidly. 

"  She  is  from  Cambridge,  Mass.,  the  daughter  of  a  professor. 
The  third  girl,"  Edith  went  on,  "  is  a  poet." 

"  She  is  magnificent,"  Hester  commented. 

"  Yes,  I  think  she  is,"  Edith  agreed.  "  She's  an  American  like 
all  the  rest  of  them — but  she's  perfectly  my  idea  of  an  Arabian. 
That  extraordinary  carriage,  spirited,  proud,  those  enormous  eyes 
like  lakes  of  burning  jet,  and  that  strange  grey-olive  skin." 

"  She  gives  you  such  an  impression,"  Hester  continued,  "  of — 
of — untamableness." 

"  Exactly,"  Edith  coincided,  "  she  makes  me  think  of  a  high 
bred  Arabian  mare.  I  have  a  feeling  that  if  I  put  my  hand  on  her 
bare  skin  I'd  feel  all  the  nerves  quivering  underneath.  I  have 
seen  her  after  a  dance  was  over  at  four  o'clock  in  the  morning 
burst  away  from  the  group  and  run  down  the  street  like  a  deer." 

"  Oh,  I  would  like  to  see  somebody  do  a  thing  like  that !  "  Hester 
said.  There  was  almost  a  note  of  awe  in  her  voice.  "  I  don't 
believe  I  could  run  if  anybody  was  looking  at  me." 

"  She  was  the  Queen  of  Sheba  in  the  pageant,"  Edith  went  on, 
"  and  she  was  wonderful.  I  say  '  wonderful '  and  '  marvellous ' 
and  'beautiful'  over  and  over  again  because  those  are  the  only 
words  that  describe  the  pageant.  She  wore  a  gown  of  cloth  of 
gold;  on  her  head  was  an  enormous  head-dress  of  peacocks'  plumes 
and  from  them  hung  a  deep  glittering  fringe  of  mock  diamonds. 
She  was  a  combination  of  sumptuousness  and  a  kind  of  gorgeous 
wildness  that  is  almost  impossible  to  describe." 

"  I  would  like  to  have  seen  her,"  Hester  said  simply.  And  now 
that  mental  bewilderment  seemed  to  precipitate  in  concrete  ques 
tion.  "  But  about  those  two  who  are  living  together,  that  Miss 
Ainsworth  and  that  Mr.  Lof tus,  are  there  many  who  do  that  ?  " 

Edith  laughed.  "  Well,  that's  rather  a  difficult  question  to 
answer.  Of  course  there  are  all  kinds  of  classes  of  what  is  called 
the  free  union  in  New  York.  There  are  here,  of  course,  as  every 
where,  numbers  of  women  who  live  with  men  for  gain.  They 
are  frankly  mercenary — immoral  if  you  please.  That  is  to  say 
they  must  live,  but  they  want  to  live  at  the  least  possible  trouble 
to  themselves,  and  so  they  capitalise  their  attractions.  Then  of 
course  there  are  many  others  who  have  no  moral  scruples — pirate- 
ships,  social  derelicts — who  frankly  do  the  easiest  thing  in  the 
love  game,  unmoral  not  immoral,  if  you  please.  Then  there  are 


248  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

others  who  don't  believe  in  the  marriage  ceremony  at  all,  who  are 
living  in  a  so-called  illicit  relation  for  a  principle — free  lovers, 
reformers — if  you  please.  You  remember  that  tall  dark  Miss 
Collingwood  to  whom  I  introduced  you  just  a  little  while  ago?" 

"  Yes,"  Hester  assented.    "  She's  sitting  over  there  beside  John." 

"  That's  the  one,"  Edith  said.  "  She  does  not  believe  in  the 
marriage  ceremony.  She  is  living  with  that  lame  elderly  man,  Joe 
Hendrickan.  He's  talking  over  in  the  corner — the  one  with  the 
glasses,  the  rather  fine  sensitive  profile.  She  has  lived  with  him  for 
several  years." 

"  And  everybody  knows  it  ? "  Hester  gasped. 

"  Yes,  and  she  knows  everybody  knows  it,"  Edith  answered. 

"  And  she  doesn't  mind  their  knowing  ?  " 

"  If  she  thinks  they  don't  know,"  Edith  declared,  "  she  takes 
great  pains  to  tell  them  sometime  during  her  first  conversation 
with  them." 

"  I — I  never  heard  anything  like  this,"  Hester  said.  "  It  seems 

so  strange — so  upsetting.  Of  course  I've  always  known But 

I  never  thought What  about  their  children  ? "  she  inquired 

with  a  sudden  articulate  luminousness. 

"  Ah,  that's  the  crux  of  the  situation,"  Edith  explained.  "  There 
are  very  few  children  in  the  free-love  circles.  Consciously  or 
subconsciously  most  of  them  seem  to  feel,  that  although  they  are 
willing  to  bear  the  brunt  of  a  social  campaign,  they  hate  to 
inflict  its  penalties  on  their  young.  They  seem  to  feel  that  they 
must  make  the  choice  between  parenthood  and  what  they  con 
sider  the  best  type  of  citizenship." 

"Yes.  I  should  think  it  would  be  that  way,"  Hester  decided 
after  a  long  interval  of  quiet. 

"  Do  you  want  to  go  home,  Hester  ? "  Southward  asked,  appear 
ing  around  the  edge  of  the  screen. 

"  Oh,  no,"  Hester  said,  "  not  till  the  party's  over." 

"  Even  if  it  keeps  up  until  sunrise  ? "  Southward  pressed  her. 

"  Not  even  if  it  keeps  up  until  to-morrow  night,"  Hester  an 
nounced  firmly. 

"She  is  a  sport,  isn't  she?"  Southward  commented,  turning  to 
Dwight  who  accompanied  her. 

"  One  of  our  best  little  stayers,"  Dwight  answered  promptly. 

"  But,  Hester  dear,"  Southward  went  on,  and  that  look  of  tender 
ness  which  came  into  her  face  often  when  she  addressed  Hester 
for  a  moment  dimmed  its  look  of  sparkling  insouciance,  "  don't  be 
too  much  of  a  sport,  don't  let  yourself  get  too  tired.  Don't  stay 
here  just  because  you  think  you're  taking  me  away.  I'm  ready  to 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  249 

go  at  any  time."  Then  at  Hester's  quick  nod  of  dissent,  "Of 
course  I  know  you'd  never  consent  to  that.  But  John  will  take 
you  home,  if  you  really  want  to  go." 

"  I  don't  want  to  go  home,"  Hester  said  with  an  unexpected 
lucidity.  "  I  do  want  to  stay.  I  am  not  tired.  But  if  I  were 
tired,  I  should  still  stay  here  until  I  dropped,  because  for  the  first 
time  in  my  life  I  am  seeing  something  strange  and  modern,  and 
breath-taking  and  dazzling.  I  want  to  get  enough  of  it  to  last  me 
all  the  rest  of  the  long  grey  years  in  Shayneford." 

"  Bravo,  Hester !  "  Dwight  threw  approvingly  at  her  as  he  drew 
Southward  back  into  the  whirl  of  dancers. 

"  What  is  Dwight  bravoing  for  ? "  asked  John,  who  came  up  in 
time  to  hear  this  farewell  salute. 

Edith  answered  for  Hester.  "  It's  only  Hester  saying  that  she's 
perfectly  willing  to  stay  out  the  rest  of  the  week  at  this  party." 

"  I  applaud  those  sentiments,"  John  exclaimed.  "  I  think  it's 
a  very  nice  party.  But  you  mustn't  get  so  tired  to-night  that 
you  won't  be  able  to  go  with  me  on  a  little  expedition  day  after 
to-morrow."  He  turned  explainingly  to  Edith.  "  I  want  to  show 
Hester  that  view  from  the  ferry  at  night.  I'm  so  sorry  you're 
going  to  be  away,  Edith.  You  ought  to  go  too.  However,  you'll 
be  back  in  time  for  plenty  other  excursions." 

Edith's  smile  fixed  a  little.  "  It  is  too  bad,"  she  said.  "  But 
as  you  say  I'll  be  back  soon." 

"  Oh,  are  you  going  away,  Edith  ? "  Hester's  voice  was  almost 
a  wail.  "  It  frightens  me  to  think  of  being  in  New  York  without 
you  here.  It  makes  me  homesick  to  think  of  it." 

Edith's  smile  lost  its  fixed  quality.  "  I  hate  to  go  too,"  she 
said,  "  it's  an  old  aunt  that's  ill — who's  dying  slowly.  It  keeps 
taking  me  away.  But  I'll  be  back  and  then  we'll  run  round  the 
city  together.  I'll  show  you  my  New  York,  which  is,  I  assure  you, 
very  different  from  Azile's  New  York  or  John's  or  Dwight's  or 
Morena's." 

The  party  did  not  last  as  late  as  the  next  night  which 
Hester  had  placed  as  her  limit  of  staying,  but  it  kept  up  long  after 
the  sunrise  which  Southward  had  tentatively  put  as  its  conclusion. 
Till  two  o'clock,  there  seemed  to  be  no  diminution  in  the  crowd 
of  dancers.  But  after  two  they  melted  away  until  circulation 
was  much  freer;  those  who  were  left  seemed  to  go  at  it  with  new 
zest.  By  four  o'clock,  they  were  tired  of  dancing  and  had  taken 
to  "  stunts."  Songs,  recitations,  solo  dancing  of  every  kind  and 
description,  and  finally  parlor  acrobatic  feats  of  every  known 


250  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

power  and  variety  followed  one  after  another.  At  six  they  were,  as 
compared  to  their  original  numbers,  but  a  handful;  that  handful 
though,  the  youngest  and  gayest.  They  resumed  dancing  for  a 
while.  At  seven  they  went  to  a  Childs'  restaurant  near  by  and  ate 
ravenously  of  ham  and  eggs,  steak,  sausages,  coffee — anything  that 
the  bill  of  fare  afforded.  After  breakfast  they  repaired  to  the 
studio  of  the  Golden  Girl;  there  with  the  aid  of  more  cigarettes 
and  more  drinks,  they  sat  round  on  the  floor  telling  stories,  swap 
ping  experiences  until  their  hostess  fell  asleep.  It  was  some 
time  after  noon  when  Southward  and  Hester  got  home  and  fell, 
exhausted  but  jubilant,  into  their  beds.  It  was  nine  o'clock  the 
next  morning  before  they  opened  their  eyes. 


CHAPTEE  V 

AZILE,  in  a  complicated  negligee  of  rose-pink  and  tea-coloured 
lace,  mob  cap  of  silver  trimmed  with  roses,  stood  within  when  the 
maid  opened  the  door  to  Southward's  ring. 

"  Oh,  here  you  are !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  I'm  so  glad.  Wait  a 
moment,"  she  called  to  the  driver  of  the  taxi. 

"  It  was  awfully  good  of  you  to  send  a  taxi  for  me,"  Southward 
said,  "  but  very  foolish.  I  walk  everywhere,  you  know,  and  I  have 
a  natural  sense  of  direction.  It's  the  only  way  to  get  to  know 
a  new  city." 

"  You're  right,"  Azile  approved,  "  but  I  never  walk  anywhere  if 
I  can  help  it.  I  hate  walking.  And  somehow  I  always  take  it 
for  granted  that  other  people  feel  the  way  I  do.  One  reason,  of 
course,  is  my  high  heels.  I  just  about  live  in  taxis.  You  get  the 
habit  in  Paris,  where  they  are  so  much  cheaper.  I'll  go  without 
anything  else  except  clothes  to  have  all  the  taxis  I  want." 

"  They're  great  fun,  of  course,"  Southward  agreed,  but  without 
enthusiasm. 

"  Let  me  take  you  through  the  shop  first,"  Azile  offered. 
"  Mother's  busy  with  some  stuff  that's  just  arrived.  You'll  find  it 
very  amusing,  I  know." 

The  Morrows'  place  consisted  of  two  of  the  little  old-time  stables 
that  so  agreeably  diversify  New  York's  mid- Victorian  brownness. 
Broad  stone  flags  led  up  to  their  wide  doors;  green-grey 
slates  covered  their  gabled  roofs.  One  was  shop,  the  other 
house.  They  were  connected  by  means  of  a  single  door. 
Southward  followed  Azile's  pink  bedroom  slippers  into  a  dusty 
dusky  interior  crowded  with  the  heterogeneous  collection  of  the 
antique-shop.  Haphazard  on  the  walls  hung  old  mirrors,  engrav 
ings,  pictures,  silhouettes,  samplers,  tapestries.  On  the  sideboards 
crowded  old  glass  of  all  shapes,  colours,  and  thicknesses.  Over 
chairs  sprawled  spreads,  chintz  hangings.  On  the  tables  piled 
pewter,  brass,  candlesticks,  lamps,  Sheffield  plate,  old  china.  A 
showcase  at  one  side  held  a  collection  of  old  jewelry.  Another, 
opposite,  was  crammed  with  old  silver,  all  very  much  in  need 
of  shining.  In  the  midst  of  this  confusion,  neat,  prim,  ordered, 

251 


252  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

a  big  apron  covering  her  black  gown,  Mrs.  Morrow  was  super 
intending  the  removal  of  a  bureau.  She  stopped  to  shake  hands 
with  Southward. 

"  Good  Lord,  that's  Gert  Beebee's  bureau ! "  Southward  ex 
claimed.  "  Doesn't  it  look  beautiful  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I'm  pleased  with  it,"  Mrs.  Morrow  said  with  satisfaction. 
"  I  have  a  man  here  who's  an  artist — a  poet  almost.  He  gets  the 
exact  degree  of  polish  on  everything.  I've  just  sold  that  bureau 
for  seventy-fire  dollars." 

"  Eeally,"  Southward  exclaimed.  "  I  had  no  idea  that  old  furni 
ture  brought  such  prices." 

"  Doesn't  it  tempt  you  to  part  with  some  of  your  superfluities  ? " 
Mrs.  Morrow  smiled  her  hard  bright  smile.  But  her  look  was 
of  one  who  did  not  expect  assent. 

"  Not  yet,"  Southward  answered  briefly.  "  I'd  like  to  see  that 
man  of  yours  at  work  sometime  though." 

"  Come  now !  "  Azile  ordered.  "  He's  doing  something  over  this 
minute." 

She  led  the  way  into  a  tiny  workshop  at  the  back.  A  little 
man,  scraping  a  sideboard  with  a  rectangle  of  steel,  straightened 
up  as  they  entered. 

"  Mr.  Courvoisier,"  Azile  said,  "  here  is  a  lady  who  has  a  house 
full  of  the  most  sumptuous  old  furniture  you  ever  saw." 

Mr.  Courvoisier  bowed.  "  Zat  means  nossing,"  he  said.  He 
had  a  delicate  small-featured  face  in  which  a  pair  of  big  black 
eyes  sparkled  from  the  midst  of  long  iron-grey  hair  and  a  long 
iron-grey  beard.  "  Do  you  loaf  it  ?  " 

"  Enough  not  to  give  it  up,  though  I'm  poor,"  Southward  ex 
plained  briefly. 

"  Zat  is  enough,"  Mr.  Courvoisier  approved.  "  Nevaire  give  it 
up." 

Southward  asked  questions  about  his  work.  He  answered  with 
enthusiasm,  volunteered  detailed  accounts  of  processes.  Azile 
began  to  fidget. 

"  Come,  come!  "  she  ejaculated  after  a  while.  "  You've  got  ages 
to  learn  about  finishing  furniture.  Let's  get  back  into  the  house. 
I  want  to  talk  with  you." 

She  led  the  way  into  the  other  stable.  With  its  bare 
polished  floor,  its  big  rugs,  its  few  pieces  of  old  furniture,  its  many 
flowers,  it  presented  an  atmosphere  of  fresh  simplicity  which  con 
trasted  sharply  with  the  disorder  of  the  shop.  A  stairway  from 
the  lower  big  room  led  to  a  mezzanine  gallery,  where  there  were 
four  small  chambers.  "  This  is  mother's,"  Azile  said  of  the  first 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  253 

in  passing.  "  This  is  mine.  Here  is  where  Dwight  does  his 
writing.  This  is  the  guest-chamber." 

It  was  very  simple,  the  guest-chamber,  and  like  the  other  rooms, 
furnished  in  old  stuff.  A  tall  glass  on  the  little  snake-foot  ma 
hogany  candle-stand  held  a  single  rose.  A  pair  of  silhouettes  hung 
over  the  desk.  A  sampler,  gold-framed,  hung  over  the  bed.  An 
old  mirror  with  a  picture  of  a  ship  at  the  top  hung  over  the  bureau. 

"  Goodness !  "  Southward  exclaimed,  "  I  should  think  I  was  back 
on  the  Cape.  It  gives  me  a  faint  homesick  feeling." 

Azile  laughed.  "  Mother  said  it  would.  She  furnished  this  all 
up  to-day  especially  for  you.  She  has  a  great  trick  of  changing 
the  room  over,  according  to  the  character  of  our  guests.  Mother 
has  a  feeling  for  old  things — a  kind  of  tenderness.  I  sometimes  tell 
her  that  she'd  sell  me  for  a  good  Hepplewhite  chair.  Now  is  there 
anything  I  can  do  for  you  ?  " 

"  No,  thanks,"  Southward  answered.  "  While  I'm  here  though, 
perhaps  I'd  better  get  into  my  other  dress." 

"  Shall  I  go?"  Azile  offered  politely. 

"  Oh,  no.    Stay  if  you  like,"  Southward  responded  indifferently. 

Azile  dropped  into  the  little  slat-backed  rocker.  Without  seem 
ing  to  do  so,  she  watched  Southward  remove  her  belongings  from 
her  bag — a  comb  and  brush  and  mirror,  all  very  plain  in  white 
celluloid,  a  nightgown,  equally  plain  of  a  fine  white  nainsook,  a 
kimono  even  plainer  of  pongee,  a  pair  of  bedroom  slippers  of  white 
fur.  She  watched  her  get  into  her  simple  white  evening  dress. 
"  You're  just  like  a  boy,  aren't  you?  "  Azile  said. 

Southward  smiled  an  indifferent  assent.    "  A  little,"  she  replied. 

"  Now  come  to  my  room,"  Azile  commanded.  "  And  be  pre 
pared  for  a  shock.  It's  all  modern.  Not  for  me  any  old  stuff. 
Furniture  can't  be  too  light  and  airy  and  convenient  and  above 
all  things,  clean  for  me." 

Azile's  bedroom  set  was  indeed  modern;  of  a  delicate  light  wood, 
augmented  with  cane,  painted  with  Dresden-like  motifs  of  pink 
roses  and  blue  ribbons.  A  huge  triptych  mirror  hung  over  the 
generous  dresser.  A  long  mirror  hung  between  the  windows.  And 
wherever  among  the  pictures  and  hangings  a  space  permitted,  a 
mirror,  short  and  broad  or  narrow  and  long,  filled  it.  Southward 
looked  about  and  suddenly  the  blue-and-black  shimmer  came  into 
her  eyes. 

"  You're  certainly  not  like  a  boy,"  she  commented.  "  Not  that 
I  haven't  plenty  of  mirrors  in  the  garret.  I  only  use  one  of 
them,  though." 

"  I  need  every  one  of  mine,"  Azile  asserted.     She  opened  the 


254  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

closet-door  of  which  the  inside  was  one  huge  looking-glass.  "I 
put  my  dress  onto  this.  I  make  up  at  the  three-part  one.  My 
hat  goes  on  before  the  square  one.  One  side  of  my  profile  submits 
to  inspection  over  there;  the  other  side  over  here.  The  rest 
are  used  according  to  whether  it's  daylight  or  electric  light.  This 
collection  of  hand-mirrors  helps  in  various  ways."  She  pointed 
to  the  big  broad  dresser,  overloaded  with  implements  of  the  toilet 
in  gold  and  green  enamel. 

"  I  hope  you  manage  to  make  out,"  Southward  said.  Her  smile 
had  broken  through  the  non-committal  impassivity  in  which  she 
had  entered  the  house. 

"  I  do,  thank  you,"  Azile  responded.  "  Now  come  to  Dwight's 
room.  I  want  to  show  you  where  he  works." 

Dwight's  room  was  distinctly  a  man's  room,  a  big  roll-top  desk, 
a  big  table,  a  chair  or  two,  a  plain  white-painted  iron  bed.  The 
desk  and  table  were  covered  with  papers.  Azile  began  to  divide 
these  into  piles. 

"  He's  awfully  disorderly,"  she  said  in  the  tone  of  amused 
indulgence  with  which  women  commonly  refer  to  this  failing  in 
men.  "  I  straighten  out  his  papers  every  day  or  he'd  never  find 
anything.  Have  you  seen  the  East  Side  novel  yet  ? "  She  asked 
this  carelessly,  bending  to  pick  up  a  page  of  manuscript  which 
she  had  dropped  on  the  floor. 

"  No,"  Southward  answered. 

"  It's  pretty  good,"  Azile  explained.  "  You  know  I  didn't  like 
the  Cape  Cod  novel." 

"  No  ? "  Southward  answered. 

"  No.  It  didn't  convince  me.  It  was  a  reporter's  account  of 
a  romance — not  a  novelist's.  It  didn't  smack  of  the  country. 
Did  you  read  it  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  Southward  answered. 

"  What  did  you  think  of  it  ?  " 

"  About  as  you  do." 

"  I  think  you'll  like  the  East  Side  story.  Perhaps  he'll  read  us 
some  of  it  to-night.  I  haven't  heard  the  last  two  or  three  chapters 
yet.  Still  I  don't  know  that  he'll  want  to  do  that  with  Morena 
here." 

Southward  was  silent. 

"  Don't  you  think  that  his  work  is  very  interesting  ? "  Azile 
went  on. 

Southward  hesitated.  "  I  haven't  made  up  my  mind  that  Mr. 
Cameron  is  a  novelist  yet,"  she  said  at  last. 

"  Not  a  novelist.    My  dear,  have  you  read  Ginger?  " 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  255 

"  Yes.  I  liked  that.  But  Ginger  strikes  me  as  one  of  the  acci 
dental  books  that  anybody  might  throw  off  who's  got  the  merest 
instinct  to  write.  Almost  anybody  can  write  one  book.  I  wrote 
one  once.  A  short  one  in  college." 

"  What  was  it  about  ? "  Azile  asked,  amazed. 

"It  was  a  pirate  story — all  men — no  women  in  it.  I  couldn't 
write  about  a  woman  to  save  my  life.  I  laid  the  scene  in  Shayne- 
ford  in  the  early  days.  I  used  our  family  history." 

"  What  became  of  it  ? "  Azile  asked,  still  amazed. 

"  Oh,  I  burnt  it.  Of  course  it  was  bad,  but  it  wasn't  so  awfully 
bad.  My  English  instructor  at  college  wanted  to  let  me  let  him 
submit  it  to  a  publisher.  He  offered  to  make  suggestions  about 
amplifying  it.  But  I  didn't.  It  only  illustrates  what  I  was  saying, 
that  there's  one  novel  in  everybody.  One  novel  doesn't  make  a 
writer  any  more  than  one  swallow  makes  a  summer." 

Azile  stared  at  her.  And  in  her  eyes  struggled  many  expressions : 
surprise,  perplexity,  active  indignation,  a  certain  grudged  respect. 
"  Why  didn't  you  submit  it  to  a  publisher  ? "  she  asked  finally. 

"  I  was  afraid  he  might  accept  it.    I  didn't  want  to  be  a  writer." 

"  You  haven't  much  respect  for  literature — or  the  arts  in  gen 
eral  ? "  Azile's  interrogative  tone  had  an  acid  quality. 

"  No,  they  bore  me.  I  hate  to  see  men  working  at  the  arts — 
painters,  writers,  sculptors,  singers,  actors.  Not  that  I've  known 
so  many.  But  a  few  have  drifted  to  Shayneford.  I  can't  quite 
think  of  them  as  men.  It  seems  to  me  that  that  sort  of  thing  is 
a  woman's  job." 

"  What  do  you  like  ? "  There  was  a  faint  emphasis  on  the  word 
"  do,"  but  Azile's  tone  had  subdued  considerably. 

"  Machinery." 

"Machinery!"  Azile  repeated. 

"  I'd  like  to  run  a  locomotive,"  Southward  said.  "  I'd  like  to 
build  bridges.  Most  of  all  I'd  like  to  be  an  aviator." 

"  An  aviator !  Good  God !  "  exclaimed  Azile  Morrow.  "  There, 
there's  the  telephone,"  she  said  in  another  moment  and  in  a  dif 
ferent  roice.  "  We'd  better  go  back  to  my  room." 

Ahead  of  Southward,  Azile  speeded  lightly  through  the  balcony, 
took  up  the  receiver.  "  Hello,  hello.  Yes,  this  is  Mrs.  Morrow. 
Oh,  you!  Good  morning.  Yes,  thanks,  quite  recovered.  Yes! 
Yes !  she's  here  now.  All  right."  She  turned.  "  It's  Dwight, 
Miss  Drake.  He  wants  to  talk  with  you."  She  handed  Southward 
the  receiver. 

"  Hello,"  Southward  said. 

"Hello,"  came  Dwight's  answering  voice.    "How  are  you?" 


256  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  Very  well,  thank  you." 

"Not  tired  out?" 

"  By  no  means." 

"  I'm  coming  up  immediately.    Tell  Azile,  please." 

"  All  right." 

"  Good-bye." 

"  Good-bye." 

"He  says  he's  coming  up  immediately,"  Southward  turned  to 
Azile. 

"  Heavens,  then  I  must  get  dressed." 

Chattering  briskly  all  the  time,  Azile  proceeded  with  her  dress 
ing.  It  was  a  long  and  leisurely  process,  involving  the  use  of 
many  of  the  glittering  instruments  on  her  toilet-table,  the  drawing 
over  underwear  delicate  as  a  cobweb,  a  gown  almost  as  filmy  of 
green  and  gold.  She  was  interrupted  ceaselessly:  many  times  by 
telephone  calls,  three  times  by  the  arrival  of  florists'  boxes,  twice  by 
telegrams,  once  by  a  heavy  pile  of  mail.  She  ignored  the  telephone 
calls,  opened  the  boxes,  glanced  at  the  cards  that  came  with  them 
and  without  comment  dropped  them  into  the  waste-basket,  ar 
ranged  a  charming  combination  of  the  orchids  that  came  in  one 
and  the  daffodils  in  another,  ordered  the  long-stemmed  bunch  of 
American  Beauties  that  emerged  from  a  third  to  be  got  rid  of 
"  anywhere  "  with  a  careless,  "  I  will  not  have  roses  about ;  I  hate 
them,"  ran  rapidly  over  the  envelopes  of  her  mail,  opened  two 
and  dumped  the  rest  untouched  into  a  drawer  of  her  desk.  The 
telegrams  alone  received  her  undivided  attention.  Before  she  had 
finished,  both  Dwight  and  Morena  were  waiting  downstairs. 

"  What's  the  taxi  doing  outside  ? "  Dwight  asked  as  he  shook 
hands. 

"  ~Lordee!  "  Azile  exclaimed  with  smiling  indifference.  "  I  forgot 
to  dismiss  the  taxi  that  I  sent  for  Miss  Drake.  Get  my  pocket- 
book,  Netty !  "  she  ordered  the  maid,  "  and  go  out  and  pay  him." 

"  You  extravagant  wench !  "  Dwight  commented. 

Azile  sighed,  but  she  smiled  too.  "  I'm  always  doing  that,"  she 
admitted.  "  In  Vienna  once,  I  kept  one  waiting  all  night." 

Dinner  was  a  gay  ceremony.  Mrs.  Boardman  in  a  gown  of  black 
and  white,  which,  evening  gown  though  it  was,  managed  to  pre 
serve  the  effect  typical  to  her  clothes  of  being  a  uniform,  presided 
at  the  head  of  the  table.  Azile  ministered  at  the  foot.  Azile  led 
the  conversation.  At  times  it  came  into  the  scope  of  Southward's 
comprehension,  but  often  it  concerned  itself  with  New  York  people 
and  interests.  It  gave  little  picturesque  glimpses  of  parties  and 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  257 

personalities,  glittering  hints  of  gossip  and  scandal.  Dwight  was 
discursive  and  humorous;  Morena  witty  and  epigrammatic;  Azile 
herself  gay  and  audacious.  Mrs.  Boardman  and  Southward  were 
perforce  silent ;  but  Southward  listened  with  a  polite  interest  that 
perhaps  veiled  a  real  interest. 

"  Oh,  Dwight,"  Azile  exclaimed  as  they  rose  from  the  table. 
"  Vera  Petroff  called  me  up  to-day.  She  wants  me  to  go  there  to 
dinner  Monday.  She  asked  me  particularly  if  I  wouldn't  bring 
you.  She's  brought  you  an  ikon  from  Kussia." 

"That's  kind  of  her,"  Dwight  said.  "Yes,  I'll  go,"  he  added. 
"  Monday  did  you  say?  " 

"  Yes,  Monday." 

"  Oh,  and  the  Taylor-Lennalian  outfit  want  us  to  go  motoring 
with  them  Sunday.  They  want  you  to  see  their  place  at  Fort 
Washington.  It's  to  be  an  all-day  affair.  Can  you  go? " 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  can,"  Dwight  decided.  But  he  said  it  rather 
slowly. 

"  Oh,  and  something  else Now,  what  was  it  ?  Oh,  yes,  I 

know,  Tom  and  Jerry  want  us  to  come  out  to  their  camp  for  a  week 
end.  They  said  they'd  let  you  set  the  date.  How  about  it? 
Sunday  after  next  ?  " 

Perceptibly  Dwight  hesitated.  "I'll  have  to  think  that  over. 
I'm  a  little  involved  with  engagements  now.  I'll  call  them  up 
sometime." 

Southward  and  Morena  listened,  without  comment  of  course,  to 
this  dialogue.  "  Will  you  let  me  take  you  to  dinner  Monday, 
Miss  Drake?"  Morena  asked  as  they  arose  from  the  table. 

"  Thank  you,  yes,"  Southward  answered  without  hesitation. 

After  dinner,  the  four  went  to  the  theatre.  After  the  theatre 
they  went  to  supper  and  then  to  one  of  the  public  dance  halls 
where  they  danced  until  two.  On  Sunday  they  had  breakfast  with 
Azile  at  twelve.  Mrs.  Boardman,  having  arisen  at  her  regular 
hour,  did  not  appear  at  the  table.  But  Azile  presided  with  a 
charming  grace  behind  a  coffee  service  of  Sheffield  plate.  She 
wore  another  astonishing  demi-negligee,  this  of  pale  blue  with  a 
cap  of  gold.  She  was  exceedingly  vivacious,  full  of  life  and  good 
spirits.  Once  a  quick  duck  of  her  head  in  the  wake  of  a  dropped 
napkin  shed  this  cap  and  her  hair,  curling  at  the  edges,  fell  in 
soft  green-gold  cascades  over  her  face.  She  shook  it  back;  but  she 
did  not  resume  her  cap. 

The  afternoon  was  for  some  reason  or  other,  dull.  Dwight  did 
not  seem  to  be  talkative,  although  Azile  rallied  him  constantly  on 
the  score  of  his  low  spirits.  Southward  was  silent  except  when 


258  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Azile  made  appeal  for  help;  then  always  she  laughed  a  careless 
negative.  Morena,  all  Latin,  seemed  to  be  watching  the  rest  of 
the  party  as  though  it  were  a  play.  At  three  Azile  insisted  that 
Dwight  should  write  for  two  hours.  She  made  a  pretty  pretence 
of  compelling  him  to  this  by  main  force.  She  pulled  him  up  out 
}f  his  chair,  pushed  him  with  her  hands  on  his  shoulders  up  the 
stairs  and  into  his  room,  shut  the  door  and  turned  the  key  in  the 
lock.  Afterwards  she  disappeared  into  her  own  room.  Morena 
and  Southward  talked  alone  downstairs.  When,  within  less  than 
the  prescribed  two1  hours,  Dwight  emerged  from  his  room,  he  was 
silent  and  moody.  Morena  made  one  or  two  attempts  to  draw  him 
into  his  talk  with  Southward,  but  he  did  not  respond.  Dinner, 
with  the  help  of  the  wine  and  cocktails,  was  for  a  brief  interval 
a  gay  affair.  Azile  in  another  extraordinary  evening  gown  of 
lilac  and  pearl  shone  again.  Once  she  said  carelessly,  "  Oh, 
Dwight,  I  looked  over  the  last  three  chapters  before  I  went  to 
sleep.  I  want  to  talk  them  over  with  you  sometime." 

"  Thanks,"  Dwight  answered.    "  It's  very  good  of  you." 

"Before  you  leave  to-night,  perhaps,"  Azile  murmured  with 
the  effect  of  one  who  is  trying  to  be  heard  by  only  one. 

At  half -past  nine  Southward  rose  to  go. 

"  May  I  see  you  home  ?  "  Morena  murmured. 

"  Thank  you.  It's  not  necessary.  I'm  not  at  all  afraid,"  South 
ward  answered. 

Nevertheless  Morena  drew  on  his  coat. 

"  Oh,  wait  a  moment ! "  Azile  exclaimed.  "  Just  one  thing 
before  you  go."  She  dashed  out  of  the  room  and  flashed  swiftly 
downstairs.  When  she  came  back,  she  held  a  little  pitcher  in  her 
hand.  "  This  is  a  souvenir  of  your  first  visit  to  me,  Miss  Drake. 
It's  such  a  darling  piece  of  Lowestoft;  it  really  belongs  with  your 
collection." 

"  Oh,  thank  you  very  much,"  Southward  said  formally.  "  It's  a 
beautiful  piece.  The  helmet  shape,  isn't  it?" 

"  I'm  glad  you  like  it."  Azile  emitted  many  comments  about 
Lowestoft  in  general  as  she  proceeded  to  wrap  the  pitcher  in  tissue 
paper  and  to  tie  it  with  nursery  ribbon. 

Southward  chattered  briskly  to  Morena  all  the  way  to  the  apart 
ment.  "  Will  you  come  up  ? "  she  asked  when  they  reached  the 
doorway. 

"  Thank  you,  no,"  Morena  said  decisively.  "  Remember  me  to 
Miss  Crowell.  I'll  call  for  you  to-morrow  at  about  half -past  six." 

"  All  right,"  Southward  agreed. 

"  I'm  going  to  take  you  down  to  Chinatown.     I  haven't  been 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  259 

there  for  three  months.  Not  since  your  friend  Lysander  'Manning 
was  here." 

"  Has  Lysander  been  in  New  York? "  Southward  asked  in  a  tone 
electric  with  surprise. 

"  Yes.  He  came  here  for  about  a  week  in  November.  Azile 
made  him  stay  at  their  place.  She  gave  him  a  wonderful  time. 
One  night  we  all  went  to  dinner  in  Chinatown  and  afterwards 
to  the  Chinese  theatre.  Didn't  he  mention  it  to  you  ? " 

"  No,"  Southward  said  carelessly,  "  but  I  haven't  seen  much  of 
Lysander  this  winter.  He's  been  away  a  lot.  As  usual  he's  taken 
a  road- job,  travelling  for  some  razor  people,  I  believe.  You  won't 
come  up  ? " 

"  No,  thank  you.    Good  night." 

"  Good  night." 

Southward  mounted  the  stairs  slowly.  As  she  entered  the  build 
ing,  all  the  superficial  gaiety  in  her  face  dropped  out  of  it  as  com 
pletely  as  though  it  had  been  drained  from  the  back.  Her  look 
grew  blacker  and  blacker;  the  deep  scowl  which  always  gave  her 
a  predatory  quality  drew  its  sinister  furrows  in  her  brow.  Her 
eyes  half  closed.  Her  upper  teeth  sank  so  deep  in  her  lower  lip 
that  they  made  tiny  white  dents  in  its  raspberry  bloom.  When 
she  entered  the  dark  little  apartment  to  which  Hester  had  not  as 
yet  returned,  she  did  not  light  the  gas;  she  did  not  even  take  off 
her  things.  She  moved  over  to  the  window  in  the  kitchen  and 
stared  out.  There  was  no  moon,  only  a  great  glittering  meadow  of 
stars  in  the  frosty  night  sky.  The  lighted  windows  surrounding 
the  hollow  square  at  the  back  looked  as  though  they  were  painted 
in  luminous  gold  paint  on  the  dark  wall.  But  it  was  evident  that 
Southward  observed  none  of  this.  Although  she  stared  fixedly,  she 
saw  nothing.  Suddenly  with  a  jerk  of  her  left  hand  the  window 
flew  up.  Her  right  arm  described  an  arc  through  the  air.  Imme 
diately  below  sounded  a  crash  as  the  Lowestoft  pitcher  smashed  on 
the  pavement. 


CHAPTER  VI 

JOHN  and  Ripley  called  late  Saturday  afternoon  to  take  Hester 
to  Edith's.  The  trio  walked  over  to  the  Avenue,  climbed  to  the 
top  of  the  bus  and  rode  up  to  Fifty-ninth  Street.  The  bus, 
curiously  expert  in  spite  of  its  cumbrous  green  armour,  picked 
a  deft  path  through  the  shiny  social  traffic  of  that  busy  hour. 
On  each  side,  a  line  of  opalescent  lights  sifted  a  magic  haze 
over  the  scene.  The  two  men  did  all  the  talking.  Hester,  sitting 
next  to  the  rail,  did  not  even  listen:  she  drank  down  the  spectacle. 

"  Still  dazed,  Hester  ? "  John  asked  as  they  got  off. 

"  Yes,  a  little,"  Hester  answered,  "  but  not  so  much  as  I  was. 
I  can't  talk  about  it  yet  though.  And  I've  forgotten  how  to 
think." 

"  Don't  talk,"  Ripley  advised.  "  And  don't  think.  Let  it  just 
flow  over  you.  Gradually  it  will  sink  in.  You'll  find  yourself 
after  a  while." 

They  were  moving  east.  Presently  they  entered  an  apartment- 
house;  tall  and  slim,  of  white  marble,  its  balconies  filled  with 
dwarf  evergreen  trees.  Inside,  John  spoke  to  a  man  at  a  desk. 
Their  names  were  telephoned  upwards.  Edith's  message  to  come 
up  was  telephoned  downwards.  They  entered  an  elevator  like  a 
miniature  boudoir,  manned  by  a  boy  in  a  fleckless  green-and- 
gold  uniform.  They  whizzed  soundlessly  to  the  sixteenth  floor. 
Edith  was  standing  in  an  open  doorway,  waiting  for  them. 

"  Oh,  this  is  so  nice,"  she  said  happily,  "  to  have  you  all  here 
and  to  have  you  all  come  at  once." 

She  led  the  way  into  a  big  living-room.  Before  Hester  could 
glance  about,  she  conducted  her  to  the  windows  which  filled  one 
end  of  the  room  and  then  to  those  that  filled  the  other.  North, 
they  overlooked  the  park,  a  jumble  of  leafless  trees  and  bushes, 
springing  from  the  frost  glitter  of  the  snow;  leaden  toy  ponds 
covered  with  the  black  toy  figures  of  skaters  and  arched  by 
toy  bridges. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that,  Country  Girl?"  Edith  asked  in 
gentle  triumph.  "  Isn't  that  beautiful  ?  " 

"  Beautiful !  Beautiful !  "  Hester  repeated  Edith's  adjective. 
"  It  looks  like  a  Japanese  print,  doesn't  it  ? " 

280 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  261 

The  south  windows  looked  back  on  the  city — an  irregular  mass 
of  buildings;  red-brick,  grey  granite,  white  marble,  from  which 
leaped  steeples  of  all  proportions  and  decorations,  chimneys  of 
all  sizes  and  heights,  windows  in  which  were  already  beginning 
to  gleam  lights  of  all  colours  and  glitters. 

"  Isn't  that  wonderful  too,  Country-Girl  ? "  Edith  demanded 
again.  "  Isn't  that  wonderful  ?  " 

"  Wonderful !  Wonderful !  "  Hester  repeated  her  adjective 
again. 

"  It  will  be  more  wonderful  later  when  all  the  lights  come  out, 
and  the  stars." 

The  rooms  themselves  were  beautiful,  the  last  cry  in  modernism, 
but  too  crowded  perhaps  with  pictures  and  bric-a-brac;  although 
all  of  these  were  harmonious,  many  beautiful  and  some  rare. 
The  furniture  was  simple  but  ample  and  luxuriously  comfortable. 
Dark  chintzes  brought  to  the  mass  of  warm  detail  the  coolness 
of  harmony;  brilliant  flowers  brought  to  it  the  piquancy  of  dis 
cord.  Books  and  magazines  gave  the  needed  touch  of  use. 

"  Now  come  into  my  dining-room,"  Edith  said,  "  I  want  to 
show  you  my  new  treasure." 

The  dining-room  against  a  background  of  paper  like  white  plush 
displayed  a  collection  of  pewter.  A  small  sideboard  at  one  end 
was  covered  with  old  Wedgewood,  its  twin  at  the  other  end  with 
old  glass.  Edith  took  from  one  of  them  a  Wedgewood  pitcher 
of  mauve.  Her  long-fingered,  beautiful  hands  closed  about  it 
as  with  a  caress. 

"  Isn't  that  an  angel,  Hester  ? "  she  asked.  A  gentle  triumph 
gleamed  in  her  big  soft  eyes  as  she  held  it  up  to  them. 

"  Yes,  it's  a  very  beautiful  colour,"  Hester  agreed,  "  and  I  like 
Wedgewood  very  much." 

"  Oh,  I  forgot,"  Edith  wailed.  "  You  don't  like  things  either. 
Of  course  John  and  Ripley  don't,  but  I  thought  for  a  moment 
that  you,  being  a  woman,  would." 

"  Oh,  I  admire  beautiful  things,"  Hester  exclaimed  with  fervour, 
"  but  I've  made  myself  not  want  to  possess  them." 

"  Well,  I  love  things,"  Edith  asserted,  "  and  I  like  to  possess 
them.  I  always  have.  I  always  shall.  And  collections  such  as 
mine — pewter,  glass,  Wedgewood — give  one  a  new  interest  in 
life.  It's  like  hunting." 

"Do  you  really  care  for  them  after  you  get  them,  Edith?" 
John  asked.  "  With  me,  you  know,  it's  '  not  the  quarry  but  the 
chase,  not  the  laurel  but  the  race,  not  the  hazard  but  the 
play '" 


262  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"'Make  me,  Lord,  enjoy  alway!'"  Ripley  ended  for  him  sotto 
voce. 

"Yes,  I  like  them  just  as  much  after  I  get  them,"  Edith  in 
sisted  staunchly.  "My  treasures  never  grow  stale  to  me.  I 
take  pleasure  in  them  whenever  I  look  at  them.  I  can't  under 
stand  the  kind  of  mind  that  doesn't  enjoy  beauty."  She  stared 
reproachfully  at  the  two  men. 

"  Oh,  I  enjoy  beauty  enough,"  Ripley  defended  himself.  "  In 
fact  it  represents  a  special  temptation  to  me.  But  some 
how  in  this  day  and  age  there  are  so  many  more  important 
matters  than  the  cultivation  of  mere  beauty.  It's  so  easy  to  lose 
yourself  in  things.  I  won't  let  myself  get  caught  in  the  beauty 
trap." 

"  And  you,  John  ? "  Hester  asked.  She  transferred  her  gaze 
from  the  Wedgewood  vase  gleaming  soft  like  amethyst  velvet  in 
Edith's  snowy  hands  to  John's  face. 

"  The  last  time  I  went  through  the  galleries  of  Europe,"  John 
answered  slowly,  "  I  felt  a  kind  of  disgust  with  the  accumu 
lated  lumber  of  the  ages,  a  kind  of  loathing  for  that  dead 
bric-a-brac.  It  came  to  me  that  all  that  art  and  all  the  talk 
about  it  and  all  the  influence  it  carries  might  be  just  as  great 
an  obstacle  to  the  advance  of  ideas  as  too  many  possessions  to 
growth  in  the  individual  life.  Sometimes  I  think  that  the  best 
thing  that  can  happen  to  the  world  at  this  moment  would  be 
to  burn  every  picture,  to  smash  every  piece  of  sculpture,  in  short 
to  destroy  every  beautiful  thing  that  has  passed  out  of  actual 
use.  So  many  good  minds  and  characters  and  abilities  would 
in  that  case  be  brought  back  to  important  matters.  And  I  don't 
know  but  what  it  would  be  a  good  thing  for  creative  artists. 
They  could  start  fair  for  the  first  time  since  art  began — un 
hampered  by  tradition — free !  " 

"  John,"  Edith's  voice  thrilled  with  horror.  "  Could  you  destroy 
Botticelli's  Spring1?" 

"  In  a  flash,"  John  answered,  "  if  I  could  destroy  all  the  other 
pictures  with  it." 

"  The  vandals,"  Edith  appealed  to  Hester,  "  they  scare  me 
to  death." 

"  They  frighten  me,"  Hester  admitted. 

"  Well,  come  back  into  the  living-room,"  Edith  suggested, 
"  and  talk  about  comfy  things." 

They  talked  first  and  then  dined;  dined  off  a  table  that  was 
one  huge  correlated  lustre  of  brilliant  old  silver,  dark  old 
mahogany,  delicate  old  glass,  and  frail  old  china.  Afterwards 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  263 

they  returned  to  the  living-room;  Edith  drew  two  small  couches 
up  to  the  fire.  John  and  Hester  sat  on  one,  Edith  and  Ripley  on 
the  other. 

"  You  look  better  already,  Hester,"  Edith  said,  "  more  rested, 
a  little  pinker — I  might  even  say  a  little  plumper." 

"I  think  so  too,"  John  agreed,  turning  to  survey  Hester. 

"  I  like  that  new  way  of  doing  your  hair,  Hester,"  Ripley  added. 

"  I  am  glad,"  Hester  said.  And  strangely  enough  she  was 
not  embarrassed.  She  addressed  herself  to  John.  "You  see, 
I  told  Southward  that  I  wanted  to  do  my  hair  a  different 
way.  And  while  we  were  in  Boston,  she  took  me  to  a  hair 
dresser,  and  told  her  to  try  her  hand  at  it.  Why,  those  two 
experimented  with  me  for  at  least  an  hour.  They  tried  all 
kinds  of  ways,  and  how  they  talked!  I  wish  you  could  have 
heard  Southward  argue  with  that  woman;  finally  they  decided  to 
braid  it  in  two  braids  like  this  and  bind  it  round  my  head.  It's 
an  old  fashioned  way;  curiously  enough  I  have  a  picture  of  my 
mother  with  her  hair  done  exactly  like  it.  Mother  had  wonder 
ful  hair — it  still  comes  to  her  knees.  Hers  was  pinned  in  front 
with  a  silver  pin,  a  bow  and  arrow.  I  asked  mother  once  what 
became  of  that  pin,  and  she  told  me  she  gave  it  to  a  young  man 
whom  she  refused  to  marry.  I'd  love  to  have  one  just  like  it." 

"  Hester,  if  I  design  a  bow  and  arrow  pin  and  have  it  made 
for  you,  will  you  wear  it  ? "  Edith  asked. 

"  I'd  love  it."  Hester  said  this  obviously  as  the  result  of  a 
sudden  resolution,  after  a  palpable  first  impulse  to  refuse. 

"  All  right,  I'll  do  that.  And  now,  please  let  me  take  your 
hair  down,  the  way  we  did  that  first  night  at  the  camp.  It  looked 
so  lovely  hanging  in  braids.  Will  you  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  Hester  replied.  And  again  her  assent  came  palpably 
after  a  first  impulse  to  refuse.  But  she  was  not  embarrassed. 
Very  gently  Edith  pulled  the  pins  out.  The  two  heavy  braids 
slid  down  over  the  white  liberty  scarf  that  Hester  wore  with  her 
black  evening  gown,  shimmered  in  the  firelight  like  carved  coils 
of  gold. 

Edith  returned  to  her  place  and  from  that  vantage  surveyed 
her  work.  "  She  is  certainly  Cordelia,"  she  commented,  then, 
"You  two  make  a  splendid  composition  as  you  sit  there.  Rip, 
I  wish  you  had  the  camera  here." 

"  I  do  too,"  Ripley  said.  "  John's  face  all  light  and  shadow, 
Hester's  in  the  double  glare  of  the  firelight  and  her  own  hair." 

They  talked  until  midnight.  Edith  drew  the  two  men  out, 
John  about  his  I.  W.  W.  activities,  Ripley  in  regard  to  the 


264  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Negro  Woman.  John  was  in  a  responsive  mood;  he  went  into 
minute  detail  in  regard  to  his  eccentric  personal  theories.  Ripley 
combated  him  on  some  points,  agreed  with  him  on  others,  asked 
searching  questions.  Hester  was  as  usual  silent,  listening  intently. 
Edith  occasionally  dropped  a  comment,  but  always  her  eyes  kept 
on  the  picture  she  had  admired — John  and  Hester  in  the  fire 
light.  Her  sweet  melancholy  smile  kept  forming  on  her  lips, 
kept  drifting  away.  Once  Hester  changed  her  position.  The 
white  scarf  fell  off  her  shoulder.  Still  talking  and  without  look 
ing,  John's  hand  went  up  involuntarily  and  adjusted  it.  Edith's 
smile  fixed  for  an  instant. 

"  Why  is  it,  Hester,"  Edith  asked  later,  after  the  men  had  gone, 
and  she  had  conducted  Hester  to  her  bedroom,  "that  I  like 
things  so  ? " 

"  I  suppose  because  you  have  never  found  your  proper  work," 
Hester  answered  immediately,  "  or  because  it  never  found  you, 
as  it  never  has  me." 

"  What  would  you  say  my  proper  work  was,  Hester  ? "  Edith 
continued. 

"  Motherhood." 

"  And  what  do  you  consider  your  proper  work  ? " 

"  Motherhood,"   Hester   answered  again. 

"  You're  right  I  think,  Hester,"  Edith  agreed,  "  and  yet,"  she 
shuddered  a  little,  "  it's  a  vile  business,  and  it  spoils  the  figure." 

Hester  said  nothing.  "  Have  you  enjoyed  this  evening  ? "  Edith 
added  after  a  pause. 

"  Oh,  very  much." 

"  Will  it  make  life  easier  when  you  go  back,"  Edith  continued, 
"  this  New  York  experience  I  mean  ?  " 

"Yes,  I  think  so.  It  came  a  little  too  late,  I  am  afraid,  to 
make  me  live  any  differently.  But  I'll  think  differently.  And 
maybe  sometime  I'll  lie  different.  I  haven't  any  courage,  Edith. 
I  don't  dare  to  believe  any  of  the  things  that  you  are  all  believing 
here,  let  alone  do  what  you're  doing.  But  I  shall  have  memories. 
I'm  listening  to  everything.  What  I  can't  understand  I'm  storing 
away.  It's  as  though  all  my  life  I'd  had  a  great  empty  garret 
in  my  mind.  And  now  that  garret's  half  full  of  things.  When  I 
go  back,  I'm  going  to  take  out  all  those  things  one  at  a  time 
and  examine  them.  I'll  understand  then  all  that  I  can't  under 
stand  now." 

"I  think  I  know  how  you  feel,"  Edith  said  softly.  "The 
main  thing  is  that  it's  a  new  experience." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  265 

"It's  a  new  dream,"  Hester  asserted. 

Hester  lay  in  bed  for  hours,  her  lids  wide,  her  eyes  gazing  at  the 
ceiling,  one  hand  moveless  at  her  side,  the  other  tangled  in  the 
huge  braid  that  wound  across  her  bosom.  Finally  she  fell  asleep. 

But  somewhere  in  the  early  hours  she  woke  with  a  start,  sat 
upright. 

For  one  instant  she  gazed  wildly  about  her;  for  another  like 
an  animal,  she  snuffed  the  air;  the  third,  she  bounded  out  of  bed, 
snapped  on  the  lights,  hurried  to  the  door.  But  with  her  hand 
on  the  knob,  she  stopped,  hesitated.  The  frightened  look  in  her 
eyes  died.  She  moved  slowly  back  across  the  room,  her  head  bent. 
She  had  opened  one  of  the  windows  before  she  went  to  bed.  Now, 
she  opened  the  other.  The  moonlight  inlaid  roofs  and  chim 
neys  with  its  frosty  enamel.  She  stood,  pulling  in  long  draughts 
of  air  as  though  she  were  drinking.  Finally  she  lay  down,  drew 
the  clothes  close  over  her  shivering  figure.  She  did  not  fall  asleep 
again  though. 


CHAPTEK  VII 

"Mv  word  but  you  are  certainly  one  grand  person  to-day," 
Southward  exclaimed  when  Dwight  called  the  next  afternoon. 
"That's  a  new  suit,  isn't  it?" 

"  It  is  that,"  Dwight  answered,  "  delivered  from  my  tailor  this 
morning." 

"  It's  stunning.  I  like  light  clothes.  And  rough  and  fuzzy  like 
that.  It  makes  men  look  bigger  and  I  like  them  to  look  as  big 
as  they  can." 

Dwight  was  unusually  handsome  that  afternoon  and  it  was  not 
all  the  effect  of  his  new,  typically  metropolitan  clothes.  Some 
thing  emanated  from  him — an  excitement  that  was  half  pride.  It 
gave  to  his  carriage  more  than  its  normal  air  of  arrogance.  When 
they  were  out  in  the  street,  he  breathed  a  quick  impatient  sigh. 
"  Thank  heavens,  we're  together  at  last !  Do  you  realise  that 
though  it's  a  week  since  you  arrived  this  is  the  first  time  we've 
been  alone  ? " 

If  Dwight  was  excited,  Southward  was  radiant.  Some  inner 
turbulence  came  from  her  in  great  snapping  waves  of  activity. 
Her  feet  skimmed  over  the  ground  and  once  or  twice  they  broke 
into  little  definitely-dancing  steps.  Smiles  kept  curling  her  lips; 
and  always  at  these  times,  when  her  eyes  met  Dwight's,  his  smile 
answered  them. 

"  What  a  remarkable  statement,"  Southward  replied.  "  We've 
danced  together  and  walked  together  and  talked  together — many 
times." 

"  Oh,  but  you  know  what  I  mean,"  Dwight  asserted  impatiently. 
"  There's  always  been  somebody  about  or  near — and  generally 
waiting  for  us  to  do  something  or  other.  Now,  we've  got  a  whole 
evening  alone  and,  by  Jove,  we're  going  to  make  hay  while  the 
sun  shines.  It's  my  day  off,  you  see." 

"  I'm  for  making  hay,"  Southward  answered  lightly.  "  Always ! 
Lead  me  to  the  hay-field,  wherever  it  is.  What  are  we  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  thought  we'd  walk  up  the  Avenue  first  and  then  dinner. 
And  afterwards — well,  we'll  see  then." 

"  All  right,"  agreed  Southward.  "  I'm  still  in  the  mood  when, 
as  everything  is  new,  everything  must  be  wonderful." 

266 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  267 

It  was  getting  towards  five  and  the  Avenue  bore  the  usual 
crowds.  They  plunged  into  it  and  through  it,  crossed  to  the  west 
side  and  started  north. 

"  What  extraordinary-looking  women !  "  Southward  commented. 
"  That's  the  first  thing  that  always  impresses  me  when  I  come  to 
New  York.  I'm  glad  I'm  going  to  stay  here  long  enough 
this  time  to  get  accustomed  to  them.  They  are  so  different  from 
Boston  women  and  so  dazzling  that  I  have  never  yet  been  able  to 
classify  them.  Sometimes,  though,  I  think  it's  only  a  matter 
of  clothes." 

"You  bet  it's  only  a  matter  of  clothes,"  Dwight  agreed.  "I 
guess  they're  a  surprise  to  all  of  us  at  first;  but  you  get  used 
to  them.  Now  I  can  realise  how  different  they  are  only  by  going 
somewhere  else.  To  tell  you  the  truth  '  somewhere  else,'  as  far  as 
women  are  concerned,  looks  pretty  good  to  me.  You  see  I've  been 
in  New  York  for  five  years  now  and  I've  had  a  bad  attack  of  New 
Yorkitis — the  Broadway  fever.  I  simply  could  not  leave  it.  I've 
even  spent  my  vacations  here.  Oh,  of  course  I've  taken  little 
dashes,  in  week-end  visits,  to  the  country  but  among  people  who 
made  those  places  only  smaller  New  Yorks.  It  was  old  John  who 
rescued  me  from  all  this  when  he  made  up  that  party  to  go  to 
Shayneford  last  summer.  Believe  me,  I  didn't  want  to  be  rescued. 
John  simply  abducted  me  and  took  me  off.  It  was  the  best 
thing  that  ever  happened  to  me,  for  I  got  some  exercise  and — 
oh,  well,  you  know  what  we  did  down  there.  What  I'm  getting  at 
is  that  I  can't  tell  you  how  pretty  those  country-girls  seemed — 
so  fresh  and  all  tanned  and  freckled  up." 

"  Well,  naturally,  that  seems  a  warped  point  of  view  to  me," 
laughed  Southward.  "  I  who  have  been  condemned  to  Shayne 
ford  all  my  life  have  an  altogether  different  opinion  of  it.  How 
ever,  it's  all  natural  enough  I  suppose." 

All  this  time,  as  she  talked  and  listened,  Southward's  quick 
darting  glances  were  beating  back  and  forth  through  the  crowd. 
At  no  time  since  her  arrival  in  New  York  had  that  character 
istic  present-mindedness  of  hers  been  more  apparent.  At  this 
instant,  her  eyes  stopped  on  the  approaching  figure  of  a 
young  girl,  surveyed  her  critically.  Dwight's  glance  followed 
hers. 

"  Get  that  hair  ? "  he  questioned.  "  Looks  as  though  it  had 
been  turned  out  of  a  mould,  like  jelly.  Nothing  short  of  a  charge 
of  shrapnel  would  disturb  it.  I  notice  lots  of  women  with  hair 
like  that.  And  I  always  wonder  how  the  deuce  they  keep  it  so 
slick.  I  wish  somebody'd  tell  me  how  it's  done." 


268  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  I'll  tell  you  how  it's  done,"  Southward  volunteered,  "  in  her 
lap." 

"In  her  lap,"  Dwight  repeated,  mystified,  "you  mean " 

"  I  mean  that  most  of  it  is  false,"  Southward  explained.  "  She 
curls  it  and  waves  it  carefully  and  then  pins  it  on.  When  you 
see  a  girl  whose  hair  is  as  perfect  as  that,  you  may  safely  con 
clude  that  it  never  grew  on  her  head.  If  it  looks  like  the  dickens, 
you  may  be  sure  it's  still  rooted  there." 

"  That  explanation  never  occurred  to  me,"  Dwight  said,  and 
his  tone  was  slightly  chagrined.  "  I  pride  myself  on  being  a 
reporter  too." 

Southward  was  paying  no  attention.  Her  eyes  had  fixed  on 
another  advancing  figure. 

"  Ermine ! "  she  remarked.  "  Look  at  it.  She's  had  it  at 
least  ten  years.  Perhaps  longer.  Who  knows — it  may  have 
belonged  to  mother.  She  thinks  because  it's  ermine,  she  must 
never  cast  it  aside.  She  thinks  ermine  is  like  diamonds — age 
cannot  wither  nor  custom  stale — she'll  wear  it  for  ten  years 
more  and  maybe  hand  it  down  to  her  own  children.  It's 
mangy  and  yellow  and  thin  and  ugly — but  it's  ermine. 
Selah ! " 

Dwight  laughed.  "I'm  getting  at  the  root  of  some  hitherto- 
unrevealed  mysteries,"  he  announced.  "  Go  on.  Betray  your 
sex.  You've  got  the  best  audience  here  you  ever  had  in  your 
life." 

Thus  encouraged,  Southward  went  on.  "  You  see  the  red 
headed  girl  coming — the  one  in  navy-blue.  Observe  the  bunch 
of  violets  she's  wearing.  Well,  now,  let  me  see.  To-day  is 
Thursday.  He  sent  her  those  violets  yesterday.  She  wore  them 
to  the  theatre  with  him  last  night.  They're  dead  now,  but  she 
thinks  she's  putting  it  over  with  us  that  they're  fresh.  Just," 
she  added  an  instant  later,  "  as  the  lady  in  mauve  approaching 
believes  that  those  gloves  she's  wearing  are  still  clean  enough 
to  wear  once  more.  She's  just  started  out.  I  can  tell  that  be 
cause  her  face  is  so  freshly-powdered.  That  might  not  mean 
anything — she  could  have  stopped  on  the  way  for  re-enforcements, 
but  that  is  a  perfectly  fresh  veil;  this  is  the  first  time  it's  been 
tied.  She  hopes  everybody  will  think  that  she's  been  wearing  those 
gloves  all  day  and  that's  why  they're  so  soiled.  Look  at  the  hat 
— to  the  left  there.  She  trimmed  it  herself  with  that  near-artistic 
scarf.  She  thinks  she's  done  a  good  job.  She  has  not  the  re 
motest  idea  that  her  decoration  is  so  lop-sided  that  it  pulls  the 
hat  way  down  on  the  back  of  her  head." 


THE  LADY  OP  KINGDOMS  269 

"Dear!  Dear!"  Dwight  commented  in  mock  disgust.  "I'll 
never  root  again  for  ballot-privileges  for  that  sex  of  yours." 

Southward  went  on  to  call  his  attention  to  the  prevalence  of 
shops  whose  signs  showed  lettering  of  a  skeleton  gold,  to  sum 
up  certain  window  displays  as  lacking  in  "  pep "  and  others  as 
notably  "  smart " ;  to  call  attention  in  one  passing  motor  to  the 
dogs  which  exactly  matched  in  colour  the  furs  of  their  luxurious 
owner  and  in  another  to  a  pair  of  little  girls  whose  hair  exactly 
matched  their  mother's;  to  one  girl  who  was  obviously  wearing 
the  coat  of  one  suit  with  the  skirt  of  another  and  to  a  second 
whose  heels  were  so  run  down  that  they  had  the  effect  of  crippling 
her  feet. 

"  I  never  knew  what  the  phrase  '  shoes  run  down  at  the  heel ' 
meant,"  Dwight  said,  "  and  I've  always  wondered.  Thank 
you,  for  enlightening  me.  But  I  see  you're  a  great  little  enlight- 
ener." 

"  One  of  our  best."  And  Southward  continued  to  enlighten. 
Under  Dwight's  encouragement,  she  barbed  her  remarks  more 
definitely  with  malice.  The  more  cutting  she  became,  the  more 
Dwight  laughed.  "  You  little  cat ! "  he  accused  her  once.  But 
there  was  no  disapproval  in  his  torie. 

In  fact,  later,  "  Do  you  know,"  he  burst  out  suddenly,  "  I 
think  I'll  use  that  fresh  eye  of  yours  in  some  Sunday  stuff,  '  What 
the  Country-Girl  Saw.'  Save  up  your  impressions  for  me." 

"  Sure !  "  Southward  agreed, 

They  had  dinner  in  an  uptown  cafe — a  blare  of  colour  and 
glitter,  noise  and  smells,  the  fresh  perfume  of  the  flowers  min 
gling  with  the  stale  odours  of  food,  the  crash  of  the  music  compet 
ing  with  the  splash  of  a  fountain,  and  in  the  noisy  laughing 
crowd  all  the  usual  hectic  figures  of  New  York  Tenderloin  life. 
It  was  nearly  nine  when  they  emerged  into  the  starry,  frosty 
night.  They  had  had  cocktails  and  afterwards  a  light  heady 
wine.  Southward  had  drunk  sparingly  of  both,  but  Dwight 
emptied  the  bottle.  The  effect  was  evident,  but  not  unpleasingly 
so,  in  an  extra  exhilaration. 

"  Now  we're  going  to  a  party,"  he  said. 

"  What,  another  party !  "   Southward  commented. 

"  Yes,  certainly,  another  party.  You  must  get  accustomed  to 
that.  New  York  life  is  just  one  party  after  another.  In  fact, 
I  must  say  that  life  here  is  one  long  party." 

"  Suits  me  all  right,"  Southward  asserted.  "  I  can't  go  to  too 
many  or  stay  too  late." 

"In  fact,"  Dwight  added,  "there  are  two  or  three  parties  to- 


270  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

night.  And  if  we  don't  like  the  first — which  is  more  than  likely 
— we  can  go  to  the  second." 

"  Then,"  Southward  responded  lightly,  "  I  hope  we  hate  the 
first  and  the  second  and  eke  the  third.  In  fact  the  more  parties 
we  go  to  this  evening,  the  better  I  shall  be  pleased." 

Dwight  signalled  a  taxi  and  they  sped  across  the  city  east  to 
Fifth  Avenue  and  then  north.  They  stopped  before  an  apart 
ment-house  of  granite,  the  replica  of  many  others  that  they  passed. 
Dwight  rang  a  bell  and,  without  waiting  for  any  message  at  the 
tube,  advanced  to  the  inner  door  which  immediately  clicked  open. 
They  stepped  into  an  elevator  and  moved  slowly  upwards. 

"  This  party's  no  good,"  Dwight  remarked,  "  if  it  had  been,  we 
should  have  heard  the  revelry  two  blocks  away." 

They  passed  through  a  door  which  had  evidently  been  left  open 
for  them,  into  a  long  hall  on  which  was  strung  a  series  of  small 
rooms.  They  passed  them  all,  laughing  and  talking,  until  the 
aspect  of  the  front  room  reduced  them  to  precipitate  silence.  It 
was  crowded  with  people  sitting  in  rows  of  chairs;  dimly-lighted; 
silent  except  for  one  voice.  The  rows  of  enraged  faces  which  their 
noisy  entrance  had  flashed  towards  them  gradually  turned  back 
in  the  direction  of  the  voice.  Southward  and  Dwight  slipped  into 
seats  near  the  door.  Dwight  dropped  his  eyes  to  the  floor  but 
Southward  calmly  surveyed  the  scene. 

The  big  room  was  really  two  rooms,  papered  a  brilliant  red, 
the  only  decorations  plaster  replicas  of  skulls,  gargoyles,  and 
animals.  Three  lights  hanging  from  the  ceiling  were  shaded 
with  red  silk  and  hanging  fringes  of  paper  snakes.  The  voice 
was  reading  a  poem.  They  had  broken  into  the  midst  of  it,  but 
the  interruption  seemed  but  to  give  it  fresh  life;  it  went  on 
interminably.  Finally,  however,  though  it  had  shown  no  inten 
tion  of  coming  to  an  end,  it  stopped  abruptly;  the  reader  sat 
down  in  the  midst  of  the  tumultuous  applause  of  an  audience 
that  in  its  enthusiasm  also  leaped  to  its  feet.  Under  cover  of  the 
confusion  and  congratulations,  Dwight  drew  Southward  quietly 
away. 

"Not  that  party,"  he  decided,  "I  hope  you'll  forgive  me.  But 
wasn't  it  a  wonder  ?  " 

"  It  was  a  marvel,"  Southward  admitted.  "  I  wouldn't  have 
minded  staying." 

"  Too  much  like  work,"  Dwight  said.  "  The  extraordinary  part 
of  it  was  though,"  he  added  thoughtfully, — "  and  this  is  rather 
typical  of  New  York — that  the  poem  was  pretty  good." 

"Well,  do  you  know,"  Southward  agreed,  "it  struck  me  that 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  271 

it  wasn't  half-bad.  The  poet  was  rather  good-looking  too,"  she 
added  with  a  reminiscent  thoughtf  ulness.  "  By  the  way,  do 
you  write  poetry  ?  " 

"  Not  guilty !  "  Dwight  answered  promptly. 

"I'm  so  glad.  I  hate  poetry.  Most  of  the  time  I  can't  under 
stand  it.  And  then  I  hate  the  poetic  vocabulary.  I  can't  tell 
you  what  a  rage  it  puts  me  into  when  I  see  a  window  called  a 
casement." 

They  walked  over  to  the  Avenue  and  took  the  stage  downtown. 

"  There's  no  knowing  what  the  next  party  will  be  like,"  Dwight 
warned  her.  "  It  may  be  worse.  But  we've  got  to  sample  them 
one  at  a  time  until  we  find  one  that  we  approve  of.  The  night 
is  still  young,  you  know." 

"  Don't  mind  me !  "  Southward  objured  him  lightly.  "  I  can 
only  reiterate  the  more  the  merrier.  Everything  in  this  here-and- 
now  New  York  is  fish  to  my  net." 

They  stopped  at  Washington  Mews  just  above  Washington 
Square.  At  what  looked  like  a  stable,  Dwight  rang  a  bell.  The 
door  was  opened  by  the  "  Jungle  Doc "  who  whispered  in  a 
stage-whisper.  "  Hullo,  people !  Come  on  in,  the  water's  fine !  " 
Back  of  him,  curling  through  the  door,  came,  ineffably  sweet,  the 
wail  of  a  violin. 

They  tiptoed  into  a  large  bare  room,  lighted  by  ship  lanterns. 
Some  partially-completed  groups  of  sculpture,  covered  with  white 
cloths,  stood  about  on  tables.  It  was  not  a  big  party  and  it  had 
formed  itself  into  a  half-circle  that  faced  the  door.  They  were 
sitting  or  standing,  utterly  relaxed:  dreams  lay  soft  and  still  on 
every  face.  The  violinist  finished,  fitted  his  instrument  tenderly 
into  its  case  before  the  spell  broke.  Immediately  a  loud  voice 
started  an  argument. 

"  There's  Joe  on  psycho-analysis,  again,"  the  "  Jungle  Doc " 
announced  in  disgust.  "We've  been  trying  to  choke  him  off  the 
whole  evening." 

"All  right,"  Dwight  said  hastily,  "we'll  be  back  later  when 
he's  got  it  out  of  his  system.  I've  heard  that  spiel  so  many 
times  that  I  know  it  by  heart.  Come  on,  Miss  Drake." 

In  another  instant  they  were  in  the  silvery  clear  night  air 
again. 

"  Congratulate  me  on  my  presence  of  mind,"  Dwight  entreated. 
"  If  you  only  knew  what  I've  saved  you  from." 

Southward  laughed.  "  Still  I  suppose  it  would  have  amused 
me,"  she  admitted. 

Dwight  tucked  her  arm  into  his.     "Not  a  chance  on  earth. 


272  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

I'll  take  you  for  a  little  walk  now.  I  seem  to  have  run  out  of 
parties.  Gee,  I'm  strong  for  this  neighbourhood.  I  ought  to 
have  a  place  right  on  the  Square.  I  did  once — sublet  rooms  for 
the  summer  off  a  chap  I  know.  It's  a  real  breathing-spot  and 
there's  always  something  doing  here.  The  wops  give  it  a  lot  of 
colour.  But  there's  another  quality.  The  sky  is — or  seems — a  dif 
ferent  blue  from  the  rest  of  the  welkin.  I've  often  heard  artists 
speak  of  it.  And  if  you'll  believe  it — crowded  Manhattan  that 
it  is — the  birds  sang  so  loud  in  the  tree-tops  that  at  first  they 
waked  me  up  at  dawn  every  morning.  I  lived  on  the  second 
story  and  at  night  the  electric  lights  outside  used  to  throw  the 
shadows  of  the  trees  onto  my  ceiling  through  the  long  windows. 
It  was  an  extraordinary  effect — and  believe  me,  kid — a  strange 
sensation  to  fall  asleep  at  night  in  a  bower  of  leaves,  or  the 
ghosts  of  leaves.  Seemed  like  Merlin  and  Vivien  and  that  sort 
of  thing." 

"  I  have  a  horried  fear  that  you're  talking  poetry,"  South 
ward  protested. 

"  Easiest  thing  I  do,"  Dwight  admitted.  "  I  lisped  in  numbers. 
By  jiminy,  this  is  some  night." 

The  exhilaration  had  evaporated  as  his  distance  from  the  wine 
grew,  but  now  it  began  to  mount  again  in  the  crisp  air.  "  Gee, 
I'm  glad  you're  here  in  Manhattan,  Captain  Southward  Drake," 
he  said.  "  We  can  have  a  great  time  together.  Again  I  warn 
you,  don't  forget  that  I  have  the  New  York  rights." 

"  I'll  remember — if  you'll  remember  that  there  are  limitations 
to  those  rights.  Of  course  I  intend  to  go  about  with  other  men, 
just  as  you  intend  to  go  about  with  other  women."  Southward 
said  this  in  a  tone  of  indignation  as  though  her  independence 
were  being  curtailed. 

"  Oh,  of  course !  "  Dwight  backed  away  hastily.  "  However,  if 
there's  a  determined  rush  in  your  direction,  I  shall  have  to 
begin  to  defend  my  rights.  I  suppose  by  this  time,"  he  threw  off 
carelessly,  "  they're  appearing  in  bunches." 

"  No — oh,  no,"  Southward  affirmed,  "  only  a  few.  Mr.  O'Reilly 
has  been  very  kind  about  offering  to  show  me  New  York.  I 
believe  we're  going  somewhere  next  week.  The  rest  are  neg 
ligible." 

Dwight  said  nothing  but  some  of  the  exhilaration  seemed  to 
drain  out  of  his  personality.  He  looked  at  his  watch.  "  Getting 
towards  eleven,  we'd  better — hi.  what's  that?" 

A  sudden  burst  of  song  came  tearing  across  the  Square. 

"  There's  a  party  over  there  somewhere ! "  Dwight  exclaimed. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  273 

"  Let's  go  to  it.  I  don't  know  where  it  is,  but  we'll  soon  find  out. 
The  hardest  thing  in  the  world  to  conceal  is  a  Village  party.  And 
I  may  not  have  met  the  people  who  are  giving  it  but  I  don't  know 
what  that's  got  to  do  with  the  case.  Come  on !  " 

They  hurried  to  the  south  side  of  the  Square,  Dwight  keenly 
following  the  sound.  "  Oh,  that  place ! "  he  exclaimed,  "  I'm 
sorry.  I'm  bound  to  know  somebody  there.  It  would  have  been 
fun  to  have  come  on  a  gang  of  strangers  and  say,  '  Pardon  us, 
but  you've  got  a  party  for  sale  and  we  want  to  buy  one.  Can't 
we  connect  ? ' ' 

They  ascended  three  flights  of  stairs  in  the  comfortable  old 
house  at  which  Dwight  presently  stopped.  As  they  neared  the 
top,  the  noise  became  deafening.  When  Dwight  opened  the  door 
of  a  little  front  room,  it  was  to  let  out  a  blast  of  song  that 
nearly  blew  them  back  down  the  stairs. 

"  Good  morning,  Patricia ! "  he  greeted  the  agreeable  youn~ 
man  with  whom  he  immediately  shook  hands,  "  Patrick  O'Rorke, 
Miss  Drake.  It's  no  use,  Patricia,  in  trying  to  give  a  party  with 
out  imviting  me.  My  intuition  tells  me  what's  going  on  and  I 
just  come." 

"  I  see  that,"  said  Mr.  O'Rorke.  He  cast  an  appreciative  Celtic 
eye  in  Southward's  direction.  "  But  say,  we  can  arbitrate  this. 
Any  time  you  bring  Miss  Drake,  I'll  let  you  in  free  of  charge." 

The  music  had  stopped  during  this  interchange  of  pleasantries. 
The  people,  sitting  about  on  chairs,  window-seats,  the  floor  and 
each  other's  laps,  shouted  noisy  greetings.  Room  was  found  for 
them  on  a  settee  and  without  introduction  they  seemed  at  once  to 
become  a  part  of  the  gathering.  The  singing  kept  up  for  an  hour. 
They  sang  American  songs,  French  songs,  German  songs,  college 
songs,  ragtime,  and  hymns.  All  the  time  a  stout  white-haired 
individual  stood  by  the  gas  stove  at  one  side  of  the  room,  stirring 
a  concoction  which  Dwight  whispered  to  Southward  was  mulled 
wine.  At  intervals  he  ladled  it  into  the  collection  of  empty 
utensils  that  stood  about;  delicate  wine-glasses,  thin,  frail,  grace 
fully  engraved;  goblets,  thick,  heavy,  and  deeply-cut;  plebeian- 
looking  tumblers;  cups  with  handles  and  without;  tin  mugs. 
One  man  drank  from  what  was  palpably  a  silver  christening  cup 
and  another  from  what  was  obviously  a  shaving-mug.  All  that 
exhilaration  that  had  died  down  in  Dwight  flamed  up  again  under 
the  influence  of  the  singing  and  the  wine.  A  spark  caught  on 
Southward's  subdued  spirit  and  set  it  ablaze. 

Once  a  good-natured  policeman  appeared  at  the  door  to  offer 
a  mild  remonstrance,  but  he  was  placated  with  a  long  glass  of 


274  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

the  mulled  wine.  Somewhere  after  twelve,  the  singing  party  ad 
journed  but  only  to  reconvene  across  the  Square  as  a  dancing 
party.  Still  singing  though  running — and  stopping  occasionally 
to  play  snap  the  whip  in  the  wide  spaces  of  the  Square — they  gained 
a  studio  in  McDougal  Alley,  waked  up  two  painters  who  in 
habited  it,  ordered  them  to  open  their  doors.  They  opened  the 
doors,  but  themselves  returned  to  bed  immediately,  undisturbed 
by  the  dancing  that  went  on  for  an  hour.  From  here,  they  went 
to  another  studio  and  another  and  another. 

It  was  three  o'clock  when  Dwight  returned  Southward,  still 
fresh,  to  her  apartment. 

"  When  am  I  going  to  see  you  again  ? "  he  asked  as  she  stood 
at  the  lower  door. 

"  Oh,  any  time,"  she  answered  lightly.  "  I've  nothing  to  do 
and  as  you  know  always  ready  for  anything.  And  I'm  by  no 
means  overrun  with  engagements  yet." 

"  Let  me  see,"  he  meditated  aloud.  "  Of  course,  being  on  an 
accursed  morning  paper,  I  have  only  my  mornings  beside  my 
day  off  and  the  occasional  extra  day  that  I  have  screwed  out  of 
them.  To-morrow  I  have  an  engagement  to  write  at  Azile's.  The 
next  morning  we're  going  off  on  a  lark  together.  The  next — 
I'm  free.  I'll  call  you  up  sometime  about  nine.  Hester  doesn't 
mind  your  beating  it  off  like  this  ? " 

"  Oh,  no.  Hester  is  the  most  understanding  person  in  the 
world.  Besides,  we  made  an  agreement  that  we  should  pursue 
our  own  devices  while  we  were  here.  We  neither  of  us  could  live 
any  other  way." 

"  Well,  then  I  have  nothing  but  the  two  engagements  with 
Azile,"  Dwight  summed  it  up,  "and  you're  perfectly  free?" 

"  Only  that  tentative  engagement  with  Mr.  O'Reilly,"  South 
ward  murmured.  "  He  said  though  there  were  a  lot  of  things " 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  Dwight  interrupted.    "  Good  night !  " 

"  Good  night !  " 

Dwight,  with  a  step  rather  less  buoyant,  proceeded  slowly  down 
the  street  and  Southward,  with  an  aspect  decidedly  more  sober, 
walked  slowly  up  the  stairs. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

WHEN  John  called  for  Hester  a  few  days  after  the  party,  he 
looked  tired  and  seemed  preoccupied.  He  sat  in  their  little 
living-room  in  one  of  his  characteristic  attitudes,  one  foot  resting 
on  the  other  knee,  his  arms  crossed  and  his  chin  sunk  on  his  chest. 
When  Hester,  her  hat  and  coat  and  gloves  on,  came  into  the 
room,  he  aroused  himself  from  his  meditations  with  a  start.  He 
reached  absently  for  his  hat  and  stick;  absently  he  pulled  on  his 
greatcoat.  He  was  still  absent  as  they  walked  down  the  stairs. 

"  Are  you  ill  or  tired  or  worried,  John  ? "  Hester  asked  timidly 
after  a  while. 

"  Not  one  of  them,"  John  said  evasively  rousing  himself. 
"I'm  just  a  little  dopey  from  the  rush  of  things  in  the  office. 
It's  hard  sometimes  to  stop  midway  in  the  speed  I  keep  up  there." 
He  sighed  a  gusty  sigh  of  relief.  Suddenly  his  preoccupation 
dropped  from  him,  as  definitely  as  though  he  had  slipped  the 
paqk  of  some  mental  burden  off  his  back.  "  I  am  glad,  I  admit 
it  candidly,  to  have  this  half-holiday.  I  don't  take  one  very 
often  you  know." 

"  I  guess  you  don't  take  one  often  enough,"  Hester  suggested. 

"  I  don't  think  I  work  harder  than  anybody  else  in  this  town," 
John  answered.  "  It's  a  place  of  concentrated  action  and  con 
centrated  speed.  But  I  believe  it  goes  deeper  than  that.  The 
air  in  winter  is  peculiarly  stimulating.  It  not  only  whips  you  on 
to  extra  work  but  gives  you  the  strength  for  it.  You'll  find  it  so. 
But  now  let  me  see.  I  thought  if  you  didn't  mind,  we'd  walk  a 
little  first.  There  are  some  places  that  I'd  like  to  show  you." 

"  I'd  like  it  very  much,"  Hester  said.  "  You  know  I  like  to 
walk." 

"  I  know  you  do.  It's  one  of  the  things  I  like  about  you. 
We  can  take  some  bully  walks  together  if  you  have  the  time. 
I  rarely  walk  with  women  in  New  York.  Edith  is  the  one  I  know 
the  best  and  she  doesn't  like  to  walk,  you  know.  Seems  to  me 
she  walks  less  and  less  every  year." 

"You've  known  Edith  a  long  time?"  Hester  queried  idly. 

"  Oh,  yes — years.  She's  the  oldest  friend  I  have  in  the  world. 
You  must  get  her  out  into  the  air  if  you  can,  Hester.  She  likes 
you  a  lot  and  you  have  a  great  influence  with  her." 

275 


276  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  I'll  try,"  Hester  said  simply.  "  I  do  think  fresh  air  is 
what  she  particularly  needs.  Sometimes  she  looks  so  pale  and 
waxy — it  quite  frightens  me.  And  often  at  those  times,  she's  so 
listless  and  so — so  far  away.  I  don't  know  how  to  express  it 
exactly.  It's  almost  as  though  her  thoughts  were  in  another 
world.  I  don't  mean  religious  abstraction.  It's  something  quite 
different  from  that.  It's  morbid,  as  though  it  came  from  bad 
health." 

"  I  don't  know  exactly  what  you  mean,"  John  said.  "  Unless 
it's — I  have  often  noted  of  late  years  with  Edith  that  her  talk 
is  characterised  by  sudden  spells  of  great  articulateness  alter 
nating  with  periods  of  an  almost  irritating  vagueness.  I  think 
she  ought  to  be  roused — taken  out  of  herself  in  some  way.  But 
I  confess  I  don't  know 'how.  I  think  you  can  do  it  though.  I'm 
depending  on  you,  Hester." 

"  I'll  try,"  Hester  said  simply  again. 

They  walked  down  the  Avenue  and  gradually  John's  mood 
changed.  He  became  interested,  brisk,  gay  even.  In  a  few 
moments,  they  were  laughing  and  talking  as  though  neither  had 
a  care  in  the  world. 

"  You  look  better,  Hester,"  John  declared  suddenly.  "  I'm  going 
to  tell  you  this  every  time  I  see  you.  Really,  you  don't  look  like 
the  girl  I  met  at  Shayneford." 

"  I'm  not  that  girl,"  Hester  stated  promptly.  "  I'm  an  abso 
lutely  different  creature.  And  when  I  think  of  all  I  have  done 
since  I've  been  here — and  all  that  has  happened  to  me — it  doesn't 
seem  strange  to  me.  Sometimes  I  cannot  believe  it  has  really 
happened.  Why,  just  think !  We've  been  in  New  York  a  week 
yesterday.  We  arrived  on  Wednesday  in  the  afternoon.  We 
went  about  all  the  rest  of  the  day  with  you  and  Dwight,  ending 
with  that  amazing  masked  party.  It  was  three  o'clock  Thursday 
morning  before  we  got  to  bed.  Thursday  night,  we  went  to  the 
party  in  your  rooms.  It  was  half-past  two  Friday  afternoon  when 
we  got  home.  Saturday  afternoon,  I  went  to  Edith's  and  stayed 
until  Tuesday.  We  talked  late  every  night  there.  Here  it  is 
Thursday  again.  I've  never  had  such  an  experience  in  my  life. 
I  never  even  heard  of  such  gaiety.  I  didn't  know  such  things 
happened.  And  of  course  I'm  tired.  But,  oh,  it  is  such  a  dif 
ferent  kind  of  fatigue  from  the  one  I  brought  on  here  with  me. 
That  old  fatigue  came  from  dulness  and  lassitude  and  discourage 
ment  and  despair.  And,  let  me  tell  you,  it's  much  easier  to  bear 
the  kind  of  tiredness  that  comes  from  having  a  wonderful  time 
with  a  wonderful  group  of  people." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  277 

"  I  understand  perfectly,"  John  assured  her.  "  It  was  precisely 
that  that  I  hoped  we'd  be  able  to  do  for  you.  I'm  no  physician,  but 
my  advice  would  be  to  keep  right  on  getting  just  as  tired  as 
you  can." 

"  I  have  a  great  sense  of  excitement  all  the  time,"  Hester 
went  on — and  now  she  was  analytic — "  as  though  I  were  floating 
on  great  tides.  You  know  how  it  is  when  you  go  in  swimming 
and  you  get  out  to  a  spot  just  beyond  where  the  waves  break. 
There's  a  continual  pull  backward  and  forward  and  if  you  give 
yourself  up  to  it,  you  can  float  on  the  surface  without  making 
an  effort.  That's  what  I'm  doing  now.  I'm  not  thinking  par 
ticularly.  But,  oh,  there's  a  terrible  sense  of  excitement  in  it. 
Do  you  understand  what  I'm  saying?" 

"  Yes,  Hester,  I  do,"  John  smiled.  "  Perfectly.  And  I'm  glad. 
There,"  he  interrupted,  "  this  is  Gramercy  Park.  I  brought  you 
here  purposely.  Isn't  it  nice  ? " 

"  Charming !  "  Hester  said.  "  This  is  where  your  club  is.  I 
used  to  address  your  letters  to  Gramercy  Park." 

"  Yes,  there  are  a  lot  of  clubs  here.  Let's  walk  round  it  and 
I'll  spiel.  It's  always  very  quiet  here.  I  suppose  it's  partly  be 
cause  the  Park  is,  in  a  sense,  private  property.  And  yet  it's 
essentially  different  from  the  rest  of  New  York.  Of  course  the 
many  club-houses  help  to  make  it  quiet.  But  the  old  houses 
that  we're  approaching  really  give  it  its  atmosphere.  It 
always  seems  more  like  Boston — or  London  even — than  New 
York." 

"I've  seen  allusions  to  it  in  magazine  fiction  that  I've  read 
recently.  Club-scenes  almost  always  occur  in  Gramercy  Park 
if  the  heroes  are  actors  or  authors  or  writers  or  painters.  It's 
very  amusing  to  get  to  know  localities  through  novels.  I  have 
never  been  in  London,  but  I  know  that  physicians  must  always 
be  put  in  Harley  Street,  detectives  in  Scotland  Yard,  night- 
adventures  on  the  Serpentine,  fashionable  weddings  in  St. 
George's,  Hanover  Square,  clandestine  tete-a-tete  dinners  in  Soho, 
that  you  must  install  your  mistress  in  St.  John's  Woods,  and  that 
impoverished  gentility  must  board  either  in  Portman  Square,  Bed 
ford  Square,  or  Russell  Square." 

John  laughed.  "Your  dope  is  all  correct.  And  I  see  you've 
been  some  reader.  Now,  I'm  going  to  show  you  another  pretty 
spot." 

They  walked  across  town  to   Stuyvesant  Square. 

"  This  has  something  of  the  same  quality,"  John  explained, 
"  even  if  the  Park  is  divided  by  car-lines.  This  is  a  quiet  neigh- 


278 

bourhood  too;  there  are  several  hospitals  here.  Do  you  see  that 
little  low  red-brick  building?  We  must  walk  past  it.  That's  the 
Friends'  Meeting  House.  It  gives  the  Square  a  charming  touch. 
It's  not  very  old.  It  was  built  sometime  in  the  last  century;  and 
yet  it  has  a  venerable  air." 

"  It  is  sweet,"  Hester  said.  "  I  would  like  to  come  to  church 
here  sometime.  Will  you  take  me,  John  ? "  Before  John  could 
reply,  she  added,  as  though  offering  inducement,  "  We  can  bring 
Edith.  I  think  she'd  love  it." 

"  I  think  she  would  too,"  John  agreed.  "  In  fact  I  know  she 
would.  Now  why  have  I  never  thought  of  that  myself  when  I'm 
always  trying  to  invent  things  to  entertain  her?  Good  sugges 
tion,  Hester!  We'll  do  that  thing  some  day." 

Hester  leaned  against  the  railing  of  the  churchyard  and 
studied  the  quaint  old  building.  Her  figure  drooped  a  little. 

"  I  think  your  new  clothes  are  all  becoming,  Hester,"  John 
said.  "  You  remember  the  presumptuous  lecture  I  read  you  at 
Shaynef  ord  ? " 

"  Remember! "  Hester  exclaimed.  "  Shall  I  ever  forget  it  ? 
Do  you  remember  the  adjective  you  applied  to  me  ? " 

"  Perfectly,"    John    answered    with    promptness.      "  Paintable." 

"  Of  course  it  wasn't — it  can't  be  true,"  Hester  breathed.  "  But, 
oh,  if  you  could  only  know  how  happy  it  made  me,  what  a  sense 
of  power  or  triumph  it  gave  me.  Do  you  know  what  I  did? 
I  don't  know  why  I  tell  you  this  but — but  I  went  home  and  took 
my  hair  down  and  stood  before  the  glass  looking  at  myself  and 
saying  '  Paintable !  paintable !  paintable ! '  over  and  over  and 
over  again.  Of  course,"  she  spurted  on,  as  John  attempted  to 
speak,  "  I  realise  that  it  wasn't  a  complete  '  paintable '  you  meant, 
only  a  mitigated  '  paintable ' ;  that  you  told  me  it  all  depended 
on  my  mood  and  if  I  were  happy  and  contented  and  that  I 
must  learn  to  dress  myself  right  and  do  my  hair  in  a  becoming 
way.  I've  tried  to  do  that.  And  I  tried  to  tell  you  I  had  the 
other  night  at  Edith's.  Did  you  get  it  ? "  She  wheeled  on  him 
suddenly  and  fixed  him  with  an  intent  glance. 

"  I  got  it."  John  answered  sombrely,  "  but  you  don't  think  I 
hadn't  seen  it  for  myself,  do  you?  It  looks  lovely — your  hair 
I  mean — you're  doing  it  just  the  way  it  should  be  done."  He 
stopped  abruptly. 

"  Thank  you,"  Hester  said.  She  turned  back  and  fixed  unseeing 
eyes  on  the  church;  her  tone  became  dreamy.  "You  don't  know 
what  you  did  for  me.  If  I  were  never  to  see  you  again  all  the 
rest  of  my  life,  I  should  feel — should  feel — that — that  I  owed 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  279 

you  a  debt  of  gratitude  that  I  never  could  repay.  Never ! "  she 
reiterated  with  a  kind  of  fierceness.  "  Oh,  never ! " 

Neither  spoke  for  an  interval.  Then  Hester  added  out  of 
one  of  those  pregnant  silences  which  seem  but  a  continuation  of 
speech :  "  I  met  mother  when  I  came  in — that  night — and  she  saw 
there  was  something  different  about  me  and  she  tried  to  make  me 

tell  her — but  she  couldn't.  So  she  tried  to  make  me  feel But 

she  couldn't.  Not  that  night.  The  next  night  perhaps  and  every 
other  night  afterwards.  But  not  that  night.  It  puzzled  her  for 
a  long  time — the  difference  in  me."  Hester's  voice  sank  into 
another  of  those  packed  articulate  silences.  She  did  not  speak 
again. 

John  did  not  break  the  spell.  Then  suddenly,  "  Now  I  think 
I'll  take  you  to  the  subway,"  he  ejaculated  briskly. 

Hester  emerged  from  her  exaltee  mood  to  her  usual  docility. 
"  All  right !  "  she  agreed. 

"  I'm  going  to  show  you  something  you've  never  seen  before," 
John  went  on  briskly  as  they  moved  towards  Eighteenth  Street, 
"  a  sight  that  you  can  see  in  no  other  city  in  the  world.  You 
know  perhaps  that,  so  far  as  most  phases  of  art  are  concerned, 
America  hasn't  expressed  herself  with  any  great  degree  of 
originality.  But  we  have  had  something  new  to  say  in  architec 
ture.  And  I'm  going  to  show  you  the  biggest  thing  architec 
turally  we've  said  yet." 

John  talked  with  a  feverish  quickness,  enlarging  on  his  theme; 
and  Hester  listened  with  a  feverish  intensity.  He  poured  his 
words  out  pell-mell  and  Hester  absorbed  them  as  hot  sand  soaks 
water. 

"  I've  lived  a  bit  in  Europe,"  John  ended  his  lecture.  "  I  do 
know  something  about  architecture.  In  a  way,  I've  studied.  For 
a  while,  I  collected  drawings  and  pictures  and  photographs  and 
prints.  I  really  went  into  it  a  little — though  only  as  an  amateur 
may.  Europe  offers  opportunities  for  that  sort  of  thing." 

"  You're  all  so  travelled,"  Hester  said  with  an  accent  of  despair. 
"  Edith  particularly  has  lived  so  much  in  Europe — she's  told  me 
such  interesting  things." 

"  Yes,"  John  answered.  He  added  hastily,  "  But  not  so  much 
as  Azile  or  Morena.  We  are,  as  you  say,  a  travelled  group.  I 
gave  away  my  truck  to  a  little  country-town  library  in  New 
Hampshire.  That  was  when  I  definitely  abandoned  all  idea  of 
studying  architecture  and  went  in  for  being  a  reformer  or  a 
radical  or  a  rebel — or  whatever  offensive  term  you  please  to 
apply  to  me." 


280  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Hester  started  palpably  to  ask  a  question,  but  although  it 
trembled  on  her  lips,  she  could  not  put  it.  And  presently  they 
entered  the  subway  and  conversation  was  for  the  time  impossible. 
When  they  emerged  from  under  the  ground  into  the  brilliant 
winter  air,  they  talked  of  other  things  and  particularly  of  the 
New  York  business  scene  which  was  flying  past  them,  even  at 
pedestrian  speed,  with  a  tremendous  vigour  and  virility.  Hester 
asked  no  questions  when  John  drew  her  on  a  ferry-boat;  followed 
without  comment  when  he  led  her  to  the  bow. 

Sunset  had  come  and  almost  gone.  Twilight  had  started  to 
drop  her  dusky  mantle;  the  grey  waters  churned  by  hundreds  of 
water  craft  were  filmed  with  a  yellowly-green  sunset  light.  John 
kept  Hester  busy  watching  his  various  points  of  comment.  That 
comment  moved  with  a  kind  of  erratic  activity  from  the  pas 
sengers  on  the  deck  near  them  to  the  big  unexplored  cities  that 
fringe  mammoth  New  York;  back  to  the  river  craft.  On  the 
New  Jersey  side,  he  immediately  bought  tickets  for  the  return 
trip;  re-embarked  at  once. 

"  We're  going  straight  back  ?  "  Hester  said  in  mystified  tones. 

"  Yes,"  John  answered,  conducting  her  to  the  stern.  "  But  in 
a  minute  I'm  going  to  show  you  the  something  beautiful  that 
I  promised." 

The  cold  winter  sunset  had  died  to  a  gleaming  streak  close 
to  the  horizon.  It  was  more  like  an  enamel  of  brilliant  glass  set 
in  the  sooty  sky  than  a  suffusion  of  living  light.  It  did  not  now 
mitigate  the  leaden  look  of  the  waters  which,  except  for  the  white 
wakes  that  criss-crossed  each  other,  had  turned  jetty. 

"  Now,"  John  said.     He  led  the  way  to  the  bow. 

Hester  gasped. 

Before  her  lay  the  incredible  sky-line  of  lower  Manhattan. 
Straight,  clean-cut,  monolithic,  colossal  towered  the  forest  of 
skyscrapers.  They  did  not  rise  into  the  sky;  they  leaped,  they 
soared.  They  did  not  pierce  the  heaven;  they  invaded  it  with  a 
precipitancy  that  held  both  triumph  and  exultation.  In  the  offices 
many  of  the  lights  had  come  on  and  they  set  this  fabric  of  stone 
with  an  inlay  of  golden  glass  in  which,  prismatically  mirrored, 
lay  the  blue  and  green  of  the  sunset.  As  Hester  watched,  other 
lights  flashed  out.  Outlines  disappeared;  separating  spaces 
vanished;  bulks  loomed  more  massive;  group  merged  with  group 
until  they  became  one  stupendous  mass,  running  jaggedly  to  great 
heights,  spreading  solidly  to  vast  widths.  Dusk  deepened.  Then 
more  and  more  shadow-hung  each  instant  and  more  and  more 
light-shot,  just  as  it  had  grown  solid,  it  grew  imponderable.  It 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  281 

had  seemed  a  great  sinister  fortress  that  held  men  prisoners  in 
the  market-place.  Frailer,  it  grew;  thinner,  softer:  it  floated. 
Now  it  was  a  fairy  city  of  the  heart's  warmest  desire;  now  some 
mystic  city  of  the  soul's  deep  hunger. 

"  Oh,"  Hester  breathed  at  last.  "  That  almost  frightens  me. 
It's  too  beautiful.  It  hurts.  It's  wonderful  though.  I  love  the 
feeling  it  gives  me.  It  makes  me  want  to  do  something — some 
thing  violent  and  magnificent." 

John  said  nothing.  He  watched  an  emotional  excitement  tear 
the  last  film  of  lassitude  from  Hester's  face.  "  Ah,  Hester,"  he 
said  at  length,  "  '  paintable '  is  too  poor  a  word.  I've  never  looked 
at  Michael  Angelo's  work,"  he  veered  suddenly,  "  Saint  Peter's 
or  especially  that  chapel  of  the  Medici  in  Florence  without  wish 
ing  I  could  show  him  this.  I  have  a  conviction  that  he  couldn't 
sleep  until  he  had  designed  a  city  of  skyscrapers.  He  liked  big 
ness,  you  know.  He  took  a  great  pleasure  in  designing  the  huge 
dome  of  St.  Peter's.  Just  imagine  what  an  inspiration  it  would 
be  to  him  to  be  able  to  use  height  as  nobly  as  he  has  used  length 
and  breadth." 

They  stood  in  the  bow  of  the  boat  until  they  reached  the  New 
York  shore;  but  they  stood  there  in  silence.  They  were  silent 
for  the  main  part  on  the  way  home.  Hester  kept  falling  deeper 
into  her  strange  excited  reverie:  and  John  watched  Hester. 
Once  she  said  fervently,  "  Oh,  I  thank  you  for  showing  me  that !  " 
And  another  time,  "  It  gives  you  a  strange  feeling — a  courage — a 

kind  of  emulation!"  And  again,  "'Isn't  it  lovely  just  to  be " 

She  did  not  finish  her  sentence ;  but  she  flushed  a  little  and  merged 
it  with  a  look  of  embarrassed  appeal. 

"  Yes,"  John  concluded  it  for  her  with  a  repetition.  "  It  is 
lovely  just  to  be " 

They  walked  from  the  subway  to  the  apartment,  in  the  same 
silence.  John  did  not  ask  her  to  dinner.  He  left  her  with  a, 
"  Good-bye,  Hester.  I  can't  say  when  I'll  see  you  again ;  for 
I  never  know  when  my  leisure  will  come.  But  it  will  be  as 
often  as  I  can  make  it."  He  hesitated  an  instant.  "  Of  course 
Edith  will  have  all  kinds  of  plans  for  us  three." 

"  That  will  be  sweet,"  Hester  said  vaguely.    "  Good-bye,  John." 


CHAPTER  IX 

AT  first  the  experiences  of  the  country-girls  were  so  many  and 
so  various  that  they  seemed  almost  unassimilable.  Society 
brought  strange  juxtapositions  but  even  the  most  everyday 
contacts,  their  brief  inevitable  shopping,  the  marketing  for  their 
toy  household,  provided  them  with  a  welter  of  new  impressions. 
And  when  it  came  to  the  actual  exploration  of  this  crowded, 
colourful,  alien  geography,  the  complications  of  new  sights, 
sounds,  colours,  and  odours  brought  a  fatigue  that  they  had  never 
known  before.  Often  they  fell  on  their  beds  immediately  after 
a  long  tramp;  they  slept  in  hours  and  for  periods  unmatched  in 
their  experiences.  Along  with  all  this  came  constant  contact 
with  new  people  as,  through  the  steady  efforts  of  their  New  York 
friends,  acquaintanceship  increased. 

Gradually  however  such  hours  as  they  spent  together  fell  into 
a  kind  of  routine. 

They  arose,  late  for  Shayneford  but  early  for  New  York,  at 
half-past  seven,  prepared  breakfast  together.  Their  atom  of 
housekeeping  accomplished,  always  they  set  out  exploring.  First 
to  the  clean  German  butcher-shop  around  the  corner  where  they 
lingered  for  a  little  talk  with  the  fat  German  wife  who,  c-less 
and  rf-less,  showed  an  interest  flatteringly  voluble  in  their  welfare. 
Then  to  the  Italian  shop  further  up  the  Avenue  for  their  vege 
tables,  where  Tony,  the  handsome,  purple-faced,  liquid-eyed 
Tuscan  and  Bianca,  his  velvet-haired,  olive-skinned  wife,  soon 
fell  into  the  habit  of  dropping  everything  to  wait  on  the  two 
girls.  Then  for  a  stroll  in  the  crisp  frosty  sunshine  of  the  New 
York  winter,  up  Fifth  Avenue.  They  loitered  at  this  window  and 
that,  stopped  to  look  at  an  exhibition  of  pictures,  lingered  a 
moment  in  the  star-shot  twilight  of  the  Cathedral  and  then  crossed 
always  to  the  Park.  Everything  interested  them  there,  the  multi 
plicity  of  weaving  paths,  in  which  invariably  they  got  lost,  the 
reservoirs,  the  groups  of  playing  children,  the  riding  and  driving, 
the  zoo.  Often  emerging  from  a  whole  morning  in  the  Park, 
they  did  not  bother  to  cook  luncheon;  but  ate  at  a  Childs' 
Restaurant.  This  was  an  experience  they  found  unfailingly 
entertaining.  Their  afternoons  were  spent  mainly  on  the  Avenue 
again,  gazing  in  a  perpetual  surprise  and  curiosity  at  the  passing 
throng.  Anything  might  happen  in  their  evenings.  The  tele- 

282 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  283 

phone  was  always  summoning  them  to  new  experiences.  One 
night  it  would  inform  them  that  there  were  tickets  awaiting 
them  at  the  box-office  of  some  theatre;  another  night  it  would  call 
them  to  a  party,  hastily  improvised,  and  often  held  at  a  house 
they  had  never  entered  or  by  people  they  had  never  met.  Or 
there  were  invitations  to  dinner.  In  spite  of  these  distractions, 
however,  there  were  plenty  of  evenings  when  the  two  girls  sat 
at  home  and  talked  and  read. 

Hester's  bedroom,  being  provided  for  that  purpose  with  a  couch 
instead  of  a  bed,  became  their  living-room.  But  they  much 
preferred  the  big  airy  kitchen  in  which  the  sink  and  gas  stove 
were  concealed  by  a  screen,  where  the  big  round  table  and  wide- 
armed  chairs  made  for  comfort.  There,  Hester  on  one  side  of  the 
student-lamp  and  Southward  on  the  other,  they  sewed,  read,  and 
wrote  letters.  Often  an  evening  would  pass  without  a  word  between 
them.  More  often  they  talked  without  cessation.  Sometimes, 
just  at  bed-time,  Southward  would  break  the  silence  with  a, 
"  Say,  Hester,  let's  go  over  to  Broadway.  The  theatres  will  be 
letting  out  in  a  moment  and  it  will  be  awfully  gay."  Hester 
never  refused.  The  two  girls  would  fly  into  their  things  and 
rush  across  town,  walking  until  midnight. 

"  Hester,"  Southward  said  once,  "  doesn't  Shayneford  seem 
like  a  dream  to  you  ? " 

"  No,  Southward,"  Hester  answered  with  an  intensity  of  em 
phasis  that  made  her  tone  almost  fierce.  "  Shayneford  is  real 
enough.  It's  this  that's  the  dream." 

"  I  feel  just  the  other  way,"  Southward  explained.  "  Shayneford 
is  like  a  past  existence — so  far  away  and  long  ago.  I  feel  as 
though  this  were  the  only  life  I'd  ever  known." 

"  How  I  envy  you !  "  Hester  sighed.  "  I'm  as  fascinated  as  you 
by  this  dazzling  New  York  life,  but  I  don't  feel  a  part  of  it  yet. 
I  feel  like  a  person  who's  wild  to  go  swimming.  I  see  the 
current  flowing  by  and  I'd  give  anything  if  I  could  throw 
myself  in.  But  I  can't  make  that  first  dive.  I  haven't  the 
courage  because  I  can't  quite  believe  that  I'll  ever  come  up 
again." 

"  I  wonder  what  all  the  old  cats  in  Shayneford  would  say," 
Southward  mused  once,  a  glimmer  of  mirth  starring  her  eyes, 
"if  they  could  only  know  what  we're  doing — parties,  theatres — 
turning  night  into  day,  even  a  cocktail  occasionally.  I  expect 
that  they'd  talk  about  us  for  one  mortal  afternoon.  As  for  the 
girls — well,  I  expect  Pearl  Wallis  would  tear  her  hair  out  by  the 
roots." 


284  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"You  must  remember,  Southward,"  Hester  suggested  slyly, 
"  that  with  you  gone  from  Shayneford,  Pearl  has  a  clear  field 
with  Lysander." 

"  I  don't  believe,"  Southward  answered — and  her  lids  shot 
down  over  the  sudden  predatory  fierceness  which  blanked  her 
mirthful  glimmer — "  that  Pearl  will  be  able  to  do  much  with 
Lysander.  I  hope  not  anyway.  Lysander's  too  good  for  her." 

"  I  can't  agree  with  you,"  Hester  said,  "  I  think  Pearl  would 
be  as  nice  as  anybody  if  her  feelings  for  Lysander  weren't  al 
ways  coming  between  her  and  a  normal  attitude  towards  life." 

But  this  elicited  nothing  from  Southward.  "  Wonder  how 
Gert  is!"  she  meditated  next.  And  then  as  though  from  the 
association  of  ideas,  "  Wouldn't  it  be  queer  if  we  ran  into  Josie 
Caldwell  sometime  ? " 

"  I'd  like  that  very  much,"  Hester  answered.  "  I  shall  never 
get  over  my  fondness  for  Josie." 

"  I  never  liked  Josie  so  much  as  you  did,"  Southward  said. 
"  She  was  always  too  bossy  when  we  played  together.  Too  much 
like  myself,  I  guess." 

"  Yes,  she  is  rather  a  lady-of -kingdoms  type,"  Hester  insinuated. 

"  Now,  see  here,  Hetter,"  Southward  replied,  glimmering,  "  re 
member  when  you're  quoting  Isaiah  you've  got  nothing  on  me. 
There  are  two  of  those  lady-of -kingdoms  females.  If  I'm  one  of 
them,  you  certainly  are  the  other." 

Hester  wrote  conscientiously  a  long  letter  every  d«iy  to  her 
mother.  Mrs.  Crowell's  letters  came  steadily  twice  a  week.  They 
showed  a  touch  of  concreteness  that  was  entirely  lacking  from  Hes 
ter's  amorphic  epistles.  Southward  particularly  enjoyed  them. 

"  Don't  worry  about  me  being  alone,"  ran  one,  "  I  never  was 
one  to  be  afraid.  Besides  I  have  Libbie  or  Sue-Salome  up  for 
the  night  any  time  I  feel  like  it.  Flora  Tubman  was  married 
last  night.  It  was  in  the  church.  They  had  a  reception  after 
wards.  The  wedding  was  all  yellow  and  white  and  green, — 
dahlias  and  asters,  great  bunches  of  yellow  satin  ribbon,  and 
green  boughs.  Everybody  was  there.  Flora  looked  lovely — white 
satin  with  a  tulle  veil  and  some  artificial  orange  blossoms  caught 
in  it  everywhere.  Her  cheeks  were  as  pink  as  peonies  and  her 
eyes  just  like  stars.  King  looked  as  much  a  lump  as  ever.  Of 
course  Mrs.  Tubman  was  nearly  crazy  what  between  keeping 
everything  going  and  yet  not  letting  anything  that  was  happen 
ing  get  by  her.  Libbie  was  in  yesterday.  She  said  that  there 
was  a  rumour  round  town  that  you  girls  kept  beer  all  the  time 
in  your  flat  in  New  York.  Mrs.  Peters  has  told  everybody  in 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  285 

Shayneford.  Libbie  asked  me  if  it  was  true.  I  told  her  you 
hadn't  mentioned  it  in  any  of  your  letters.  But  one  thing  I 
was  sure — it  wasn't  champagne.  Libbie  said  Mrs.  Drake  started 
that  story." 

"  Now  where  did  grandmother  get  that  idea  ? "  Southward 
demanded  of  the  atmosphere.  "  Something  I  said  in  my  letters 
of  course,  but  what  was  it?  It's  a  good  idea  though.  Why  don't 
we  keep  beer?  I'll  order  a  case  to-morrow." 

"  Gracie  Dodge  is  engaged  to  Harry  Turner."  Hester  read  on, 
"  Of  course  Mrs.  Dodge  is  tickled  to  death.  And  well  she  might 
be.  Three  homely  daughters.  There  was  plenty  in  this  town 
never  thought  Gracie'd  ever  get  Harry.  Who  do  you  suppose 
Myra  Eowell  is  going  with?  Markie  Allen.  Everybody's  talking 
about  it.  They  say  he's  up  there  every  night.  Aline  is  going  to 
have  another  baby.  Mrs.  Allen  is  about  discouraged.  She  says 
this  is  the  fifth  in  eight  years  and  Aline  is  all  worn  out." 

"  Sarah  Wallis  was  in  yesterday."  (This  from  another  of  Mrs. 
Crowell's  letters.)  "She  is  still  harping  on  Gert  Beebee  and 
who  the  father  of  that  child  is.  I  told  her  probably  Gert  didn't  know 
herself — only  God  knew  and  He  wouldn't  tell.  I  said  to  her  I 
didn't  see  why  she  let  herself  get  so  riled  up  over  it;  every  year 
since  I've  lived  in  Shayneford  there's  been  two  or  three  and 
sometimes  more  illegitimate  children  and  it  hasn't  ever  seemed  to 
bother  her  so  much  before.  She  said  that  in  those  cases  we 
always  knew  who  the  father  was.  '  Oh,'  I  said,  '  it's  only  curi 
osity  that's  chewing  you  up.'  Gert  stopped  in  the  other  day  with 
the  baby — she  was  going  by  and  I  beckoned  to  her  from  the  win 
dow  to  come  in.  First  time  I'd  seen  him.  Smart  little  thing  I 
must  say  and  awful  big  for  his  age.  He's  got  lots  of  red  hair. 
I  do  declare  though  he  don't  look  like  anybody  round  here." 

And  later :  "  I  never  saw  anything  like  how  cheap  you  get  vege 
tables  in  New  York.  And  the  variety !  Makes  my  mouth  water, 
just  to  read  about  it.  But,  land,  you  always  live  better  in  the 
city." 

"  Sue-Salome  called  yesterday.  She  said  there  was  a  story 
running  round  town  that  you  two  girls  was  living  with  Josie 
Caldwell  and  asked  me  if  it  was  true.  I  said  not  since  yesterday. 
And  anyway  I  didn't  think  you  two  could  afford  to  live  so  fine 
as  Josie.  Well  now,  who  do  you  think  is  engaged — Aggie  Bassett. 
Lord,  I  thought  she  was  a  settled  old  maid.  That  new  doctor  in 
North  Shayneford — Dr.  Eli  Larrabee.  It  came  as  the  greatest 
surprise  to  everybody.  She's  been  visiting  the  Roswells  over 
there  right  along  and  they  do  say  Mrs.  Roswell  isn't  any  too 


286  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

much  pleased — she  thought  all  the  time  it  was  Flossie  Dr.  Larra- 
bee  was  making  up  to.  Maud  Curtis's  baby  has  come  and  it's  a 
girl — she  said  if  it  was  another  girl  she'd  drown  it  but  I  haven't 
heard  of  any  death  in  the  family  yet." 

"  Flora  came  to  call  yesterday.  She  thinks  she's  in  the  family 
way  already  and  she's  as  happy  as  she  can  be.  She  looked  lovely. 
She  said  that  Mercy  Brewster  is  beginning  to  go  round  with 
Fred  Snow.  Isn't  that  the  greatest !  Why,  it  don't  seem  more 
than  yesterday  that  Mercy  was  running  in  here  asking  me  for 
one  of  my  ginger  cookies.  She's  begun  to  put  her  hair  up.  Aggie 
Bassett  is  going  to  be  married  in  the  spring.  And  Gracie  Dodge 
in  the  fall.  Dora  Crafts  is  going  to  have  another  baby.  Seems 
as  though  all  these  letters  consist  of  is  people  getting  engaged  and 
married  and  having  babies.  Well,  come  to  think  of  it,  that's 
about  all  there  is  in  life." 

Southward  wrote  at  irregular  intervals,  letters  struck  off  at 
lightning  speed  from  an  old  typewriter  that  Dwight  lent  her. 
Her  writing  displayed  all  the  forthrightness  and  terseness  that 
characterised  her  speech.  At  long  intervals  came  a  note  from 
Mrs.  Drake;  written  in  pencil  on  ruled  paper,  unpunctuated,  the 
I's  all  small,  as  for  example: 

Dear  Southward: 

i  was  glad  to  get  your  nice  long  letter  and  was  pleased  to  hear 
that  you  was  having  such  a  good  time  New  York  must  lie  a  very 
•fine  city  i  was  only  there  once  and  that  was  over  thirty  years  ago 
and  Fourteenth  Street  was  where  all  the  best  stores  were  i  went 
into  all  of  them  and  the  Eden  Musay  and  the  Park,  and  Coney, 
Island  and  i  bought  a  lot  of  things  my  best  black  barbe  was 
bought  there  and  it  is  just  as  good  now  as  the  day  i  bought  it 
for  i  have  been  very  saving  of  it  there  is  no  reason  why  anything 
should  ever  wear  out  if  you  take  good  care  of  it  i  do  hope  you 
will  look  out  for  them  automobiles  when  you  cross  the  street  and 
don't  stay  up  too  late  nights  as  you  will  get  old  and  wrinkled  if 
you  lose  all  your  beauty  sleep,  and  don't  spend  your  money  too 
fast  and  don't  go  around  to  them  restaurants  too  much,  as  it  is 
expensive  and  the  food  is  not  so  good  as  what  you  can  cook  at 
home  hoping  you  are  both  well,  and  with  love  to  you  and  Hester 
from  your  grandfather  and  Charlotte  and  me 
i  remain 

Yours  truly 

Lorenzo,  Drake. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  287 

Southward  enjoyed  these  letters  enormously.  She  always  read 
them  to  Dwight  and  occasionally  to  John  and  Ripley. 

"  I  wish  that  Charlotte  could  write  to  me,"  she  said  frequently. 
"  She'd  give  us  all  the  news.  Gee,  doesn't  it  make  me  wild  to 
think  of  Charlotte  blind  like  that!  When  that  Greinschmidt 
man  gets  to  Boston,  you  won't  be  able  to  see  my  heels  for  dust, 
Hetter,  I'll  beat  it  back  to  Boston  so  quick.  Charlotte  doesn't 
know  yet  that  her  eyes  are  going  to  be  examined,  but  I  do." 

Southward  became  a  victim  of  the  New  York  newspapers.  She 
took  half  a  dozen  a  day.  Under  Dwight's  tutelage,  she  developed 
an  extraordinary  acumen  in  regard  to  them.  She  studied  the 
various  features  both  of  the  news  and  editorial  pages,  the  signed 
stuff,  the  sporting  page,  cartoons,  rhymes;  Sunday  editions.  She 
came  to  have  an  acute  sense  of  news  values.  Dwight  told  her 
constantly  that  she  ought  to  have  been  a  newspaper-woman.  Long 
before  Hester  was  awake,  Southward  had  hopped  out  of  bed,  had 
possessed  herself  of  the  morning  paper,  had  drunk  down  the  news 
to  the  last  dregs.  She  followed  a  famous  murder-case  with  close 
attention,  became  an  authority  in  regard  to  the  evidence.  Often 
at  night,  she  would  come  in  from  the  theatre  bearing  the  latest 
faked  extra;  and  she  never  attempted  to  sleep  until  she  had  read 
it  thoroughly.  Hester  could  not  accustom  herself  to  the  hurly- 
burly  of  the  metropolitan  press,  the  screaming  head-lines,  the  con 
flicting  colours.  Conscientiously  she  read  the  Boston  Transcript 
which  her  mother  forwarded  to  her  every  day  and  the  Shayneford 
Citizen  that  came  once  a  week. 

The  weeks  flew  by.  Thanksgiving  came  in  a  flash  and 
Christmas  seemed  only  a  week  or  two  later.  Dwight  went  to  Ver 
mont  to  spend  both  holidays  with  his  father,  and  Azile  joined 
fashionable  out-of-town  house-parties.  Edith  insisted  on  having 
a  Thanksgiving  dinner  and  a  Christmas  tree  for  their  rather 
decimated  group.  She  filled  in  the  places  of  the  absent  and 
brought  their  number  up  to  a  dozen  with  the  familiars  of  her 
own  circle.  For  Christmas,  they  agreed  to  a  rule  that  no  gift 
could  cost  over  ten  cents,  but  Edith  refused  to  stint  herself  when 
it  came  to  hospitality.  For  the  Thanksgiving  dinner,  she 
brought  out  all  her  reserves  of  silver,  china,  and  glass.  The 
country-girls  sat  down  to  such  a  table  as  for  beauty  they  had 
never  seen,  such  a  dinner  as  for  complication  they  had  not  guessed 
could  be. 

They  were  sitting  alone  one  January  evening  in  quiet.  South 
ward  had  just  taken  up  the  evening  paper.  "  Good  Lord,  Hester !  " 
she  exclaimed  suddenly  in  an  electrified  tone.  "  Listen  to  this. 


288  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

'Buster  Welch  marries.  Buster  Welch,  the  Bay  State  Champion 
Middleweight,  was  married  yesterday  to  Miss  Gertrude  Beebee 
of  Shayneford,  Massachusetts.' " 

Southward  dropped  the  paper  and  stared  at  Hester  who,  drop 
ping  her  darning,  stared  back. 

"What  do  you  think  of  that?"  Southward  demanded.  Then, 
"  Say,  Hester,  wasn't  there  a  prizefighter  staying  over  in  Wenett 
when — sure  there  was!  I  remember.  His  name  was  Welch. 
You  remember  that  fall;  Gert  used  to  go  over  to  Wenett  right 
along  to  visit  Sadie  Todd."  She  stopped  abruptly. 
The  two  girls  stared  at  each  other. 

"  As    sure   as   you   live,   Hester,"    Southward   went    on,    "  he's 
the  father  of  that  child.     And  now  he's  made  good.     Well,  what 
do  you  think  of  that?" 
"I'm  glad,"  Hester  said. 

"  Glad!  So  am  I !  I  never  was  so  glad  in  my  life.  Do  you 
remember  that  night  we  called  in  to  see  Gert  how  she  told  us 
that  the  father  of  that  child  could  lick  any  three  men  in  Shayne 
ford  with  one  hand  tied,  and  if  he  were  to  come  walking  into  the 
room  then  we'd  envy  her  ?  Well,  here's  the  picture  of  this  Apollo." 
She  handed  the  paper  across  the  table.  Hester  surveyed  a  big 
hard  countenance  in  which  a  nose,  battered  permanently  out  of 
its  original  contour,  could  not  render  sinister  a  prevailing  Celtic 
jollity  of  expression. 

"I  like  his  face,"  Hester  announced  unexpectedly. 
"  So  do  I,"  said  Southward.    "  But  I  admit  I'm  flabbergasted." 
"I'm  awfully  glad  for  Gert  too,"  Hester  concluded. 
"  I'm  so  glad  I  don't  know  what  to  do."     Southward  suddenly 
burst  into  laughter.    "My  dear,  what  will  Sarah  Wallis  say?" 

They  had  come  to  New  York  in  time  to  enjoy  the  last  period  of 
the  Indian  summer.  November  was  a  month  of  perfect  days, 
crisp  at  morning  and  night;  stilly  warm  at  noon.  The  streets 
were  filled  with  a  purple  haze  that  softened  their  heights  and  filled 
their  distances  with  mystery.  Such  trees  and  bushes  as  New 
York  possessed  flaunted  all  the  gorgeous  dyes  of  autumn,  put 
orange  and  crimson  conflagrations  in  the  purple  vistas.  Gradu 
ally,  however,  that  soft  still  noon  warmth  vanished,  the  crispness 
of  morning  and  night  sharpened  to  a  stabbing  cold.  With 
Thanksgiving  came  the  first  snow.  In  the  middle  of  December  a 
blizzard  locked  the  city  in  an  embrace  superficially  soft  and 
smothering;  in  reality  the  grip  of  an  iron  hand.  An  army  of 
men  carted  the  snow  away  in  a  single  day;  but  not  before  South 
ward,  responding  to  Dwight's  invitation,  had  spent  a  morning 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  289 

walking  with  him  through  the  Park.  It  grew  steadily  colder  and 
colder;  but  ever  the  brilliant  New  York  sun  put  something  into 
the  air  that  was  like  a  flame  at  the  heart  of  an  icicle.  South 
ward,  who  frankly  loved  winter,  grew  more  sparklingly  handsome 
every  day.  And  even  Hester,  who  as  frankly  disliked  it,  re 
sponded  to  that  something  electric  in  the  atmosphere  with  a 
blue  brightness  of  eye,  a  pink  vividness  of  cheek,  a  quickening  of 
her  whole  expression,  and  an  alertness  of  movement  that  bade 
fair,  if  it  continued,  to  work  a  complete  metamorphosis  in  her. 


CHAPTER  X 

SOUTHWARD  of  course  got  the  map,  social  and  geographical,  of 
New  York  before  Hester  did.  For  one  thing,  she  was  a  longer 
and  stronger  walker  than  Hester  and  for  another  she  was  more 
inquisitive  and  observant.  And  although  Hester's  temperamen 
tal  lassitude  was  broken  to  some  degree  by  the  shrillness  and 
clamour,  the  sparkle  and  colour  of  these  new  experiences,  it 
recurred  at  intervals  and  often  stayed  for  a  long  time.  But 
Southward  was  more  than  ever  present-minded,  more  than  ever 
sharply  curious.  Often  after  their  early  morning  walk,  when  she 
had  delivered  Hester  tired  and  hungry  at  their  apartment,  she 
would  herself  start  out  again  with  undiminished  ardour.  Some 
times  she  turned  uptown  again,  bisecting  at  an  impetuous  pace 
whole  sections  of  apartment-house  neighbourhoods,  stopping  only 
when  she  reached  the  northern  limits  of  the  island.  At  other 
times  she  wove  back  and  forth  from  river  to  river. 

"  This  city  goes  on  and  on,  Hetter ! "  she  said  after  one  such 
experience.  "  It  makes  you  feel  that  the  suburbs  merge  with  the 
outskirts  of  Chicago." 

Sometimes  she  shot  through  the  business  end  of  the  island 
to  the  water-front.  "  Oh,  Hetter,  Hetter !  "  she  said  once  on  her 
return,  "  the  ships  I've  seen  this  day !  Haven't  you  got  the  nerve 
to  stow  away  in  one  of  them  with  me  ? " 

Southward  took  long  car-rides  and  ferry-rides.  She  crossed  all 
the  bridges,  which,  like  steel  ropes,  tie  the  island  to  the  sur 
rounding  country.  She  visited  the  circle  of  cities  which  surround 
New  York,  to  whose  life  the  average  New  Yorker  is  profoundly 
indifferent  and  of  whose  very  existence  most  are  only  half  con 
scious.  Constantly  she  explored  country  more  strange  to  many 
of  the  people  she  was  meeting  than  the  purlieus  of  London  and 
Paris.  The  huge  map  of  New  York  which  she  pinned  on  her 
bedroom  wall  became  criss-crossed  with  the  written  data  of  her 
experiences. 

A  little  more  than  Hester,  Southward  responded  to  the  tenta 
tive  social  welcome  held  out  to  them  by  the  new  people  they  met 
— but  not  much  more.  She  made  no  real  woman-friends.  For 
here,  as  in  the  country,  Southward  was  a  lone  wolf,  too  boyish, 

290 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  291 

too  self-sufficient,  too  sure  of  herself  to  be  a  real  comrade  with 
the  members  of  her  own  sex.  With  men  it  was  different. 

An  evening  with  Morena  followed  very  soon  on  her  evening 
with  Dwight.  He  called  for  her  late  one  afternoon  in  middle 
November,  an  Indian  summer  day  so  warm  that  it  seemed  as 
though  it  had  been  left  over  from  the  summer. 

"  I  thought  I'd  take  you  to  Chinatown  for  dinner  to-night," 
Morena  suggested  as  they  stepped  out  into  the  soft  hazy  air. 
"  And  I  had  an  idea  of  a  matinee,  but  this  is  too  perfect  an  after 
noon  to  waste  indoors.  How  about  a  walk  ? " 

"  I'd  like  that  better  than  anything,"  Southward  answered. 
"  I'm  always  ready  for  a  walk,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  I've  noticed  that,"  Morena  commented.  "  You're  rather 
different  from  the  rest  of  our  women  in  that  respect.  Edith's 
always  too  tired  to  walk  anywhere — she  lives  in  taxicabs — and 
Azile  is  always  too  busy.  Abroad,  one  walks  a  lot  of  course; 
everything  is  so  beautiful  and  so  interesting.  I  miss  it  here. 
Have  you  seen  the  Bronx  yet?" 

"  No." 

"Let's  go  there.  We  can  walk  for  an  hour  or  so  before  re 
turning.  Really,  it's  one  of  the  most  beautiful  zoos  I  have  ever 
seen.  You  like  animals,  don't  you  ?  " 

"  Very  much.  Especially  dogs.  I  think  I  like  dogs  better  than 
anything." 

"  Better  than  men  and  women  ? "  Morena  queried. 

They  were  in  the  subway  train  now  and  their  conversation  was 
limited  to  periods  when  the  train  stopped.  With  the  perfect 
control  of  herself  which  sometimes  amounted  to  insolence,  South 
ward  forebore  to  answer  his  question;  waited  coolly  until  they 
reached  the  next  stop. 

Morena,  sitting  in  the  corner  turned  sideways,  and  with  his 
arms  folded,  deliberately  surveyed  her.  His  scrutiny  was  amused 
and  admiring  and  yet  obviously  there  was  irritation  in  it. 

All  the  effects  of  the  life  which  Southward  professed  to  find 
the  pleasantest  she  had  ever  known  showed  in  her  face.  Perfect 
health  coloured  it.  High  spirits  irradiated  it.  Her  lips,  even  in 
repose,  kept  rippling  into  vr.gue  smiles,  and  more  than  ever  her 
inexhaustible  fund  of  nervous  energy  tried  to  wear  itself  out  in 
movement.  She  could  not  stand  still.  She  could  not  sit  still. 
Standing,  one  foot  at  least  was  always  breaking  into  impromptu 
dance-steps.  Sitting,  one  of  them  continually  tapped  the  floor. 
Here  in  the  subway,  she  had  the  effect  of  a  winged  creature  who 
has  just  alighted,  not  butterfly,  nor  swallow,  nor  dove — nor  any 


292  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

gentle  creature  of  the  air — so  much  as  a  hawk  on  a  marauding 
expedition  who  rests  perforce  while  his  wings  flutter  to  he  off. 

"  Not  more  than  men  but  better  than  all  women,  except  a  few 
— Hester  particularly,"  she  replied  equably  when  the  train  stopped. 
"  Not  all  men  of  course.  I  like  some  men." 

"  For  instance  ? "  Morena  asked  lazily,  still  studying  the  face 
that  she  did  not  bother  to  turn  further  than  its  profile. 

"  Lysander  Manning,"  Southward  answered.  "  I  like  him. 
We've  always  been  the  best  of  friends.  But  there  are  very  few 
like  Lysander." 

"  Why  don't  you  like  me  ?  "  Morena  demanded  suddenly. 

The  train  started  again;  and  again  with  her  calm  insolence, 
Southward  continued  to  muse  until  the  next  stopping-place. 

"  I  don't  know  exactly,"  she  answered  then. 

"  I  do,"  Morena  declared. 

If  he  had  expected  Southward  to  display  curiosity,  he  was 
disappointed.  She  said  nothing. 

"  Come  now,"  Morena  went  on  teasingly,  "  we're  both  lying. 
You  don't  entirely  dislike  me,  and  you  know  you  don't." 

"  That's  true,"  Southward  agreed.  "  More  than  that,  there 
are  some  things  about  you  I  like  very  much." 

"  Three  cheers !     What  are  they  ?  " 

"You  have  a  spirit  of  adventure,"  Southward  explained. 
"  And  you  are  really  democratic ;  you  have  the  feeling  for  people. 
Most  people  think  they  have  that,  of  course,  and  some  do.  But 
it  takes  different  forms.  It  happens  to  take  the  same  form  in  you 
that  it  does  in  me.  It  isn't  a  matter  of  money  with  either  of  us. 
You  don't  care  what  people  are  or  how  they  dress  or  where  they 
live  as  long  as  they're  different.  I'm  a  little  that  way  myself.  I 
like  it  in  you." 

And  then  the  subway  clamour  broke  her  words  off. 

When  next  Morena  spoke,  he  had  changed  the  subject. 

"You're  looking  awfully  fit.  This  change  has  done  you  a  lot 
of  good.  But  I  remember  I  don't  have  to  tell  you  that  you're 
good-looking.  You  admitted  in  Shayneford  that  you  knew  it." 

"  Yes,"  Southward  announced  without  smiling.  "  I  have 
learned  that  fact  about  myself." 

"I  have  often  wondered,"  Morena  went  on,  "just  how  much 
an  attractive  woman  understands  her  own  attractiveness.  Of 
course  she  must  know  when  her  features  are  good.  But  how  much 
does  she  appreciate  the  degree  of  her  charm — physical,  sexual  ?  " 

"  Couldn't  answer  that  question,"  Southward  replied.  "  And 
especially  in  regard  to  other  women.  Of  course  for  myself,  I 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  293 

know  that  my  eyes  and  teeth  are  all  right  and  my  complexion. 
There's  one  side  of  my  profile  bothers  me  though  and  I  wish  I 
could  change  the  end  of  my  nose." 

Morena  laughed. 

"  You  probably  would  take  all  the  individuality  out  of  your 
face.  Now  there's  another  thing  that  puzzles  me.  I  mean  the 
women  who,  from  my  point  of  view,  seem  always  to  wear  the 
wrong  clothes.  I'm  not  referring  to  the  frumps  and  dowds. 
Count  them  out.  I  mean  pretty  women — attractive  women — you 
see  them  all  the  time — who  with  premeditation  and  elaboration 
plan  clothes  that  are  good-looking  enough  in  themselves  but  just 
the  wrong  things  for  them  to  wear.  At  least,"  he  added  hastily, 
"  they  seem  so  from  a  man's  point  of  view.  Women  for  instance 
who  ought  to  wear  frilly  feminine  things  affecting  a  masculine 
plainness  and  simplicity,  anaemic  women  who  dress  in  the  Oriental 
colours;  blowsy,  stout  women  who  go  in  for  Dresden  china  blues 
and  pinks.  Now,  why  do  they  do  that  ? " 

Southward  shook  her  head.  "  I  don't  know.  I  suppose  they're 
trying  to  be  the  type  they  most  admire  themselves.  But  I'm  not 
sure.  Clothes  don't  interest  me  very  much.  I  like  them  to  be  of 
nice  material  but  as  simple  as  possible." 

"  Yes,  I've  noticed  that,"  asserted  Morena.  "  I  think  you  strike 
the  right  combination  of  femininity  and  boyishness.  It  exactly 
suits  you.  Yet  those  Chinese  coats  you  wear  suit  you  too.  Now 
Edith " 

The  train  started  again  and  his  voice  merged  with  its  noise. 
He  waited  an  instant.  When  the  silence  came,  Southward  did 
not  speak. 

"  Oh,  Edith !  "  he  exclaimed  as  though  suddenly  remembering. 
"  Edith  dresses  in  the  extreme  of  femininity — charmingly  I  think. 
She  is  what  the  French  call  soignee  to  a  degree.  More  so  than 
any  woman  I  have  ever  known.  Dressing  with  Edith  is  a  career 
in  itself.  Hester,  it  is  apparent,  has  never  known  and  never  cared. 
Lately  though,  thanks  to  you,  I  suppose,  she's  begun  to  take  more 
interest.  It's  improved  her  a  lot.  I  prophesy  that  she  will  con 
tinue  to  improve  in  exact  proportion  to  the  interest  she  develops. 
Hester  could  make  herself  into  a  very  interesting  type.  John  has 
always  said  she  was  paintable,  but  I  must  confess  I  haven't  been 
able  to  see  it  until  lately." 

The  train  tore  through  this  analysis  and  he  stopped:  did  not 
resume  until  the  next  quiet  interval  had  nearly  passed.  "  But 
now,"  he  took  it  up  where  he  left,  "  Hester  has  something  alive 
in  her  face." 


294  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  She's  quite  wonderful-looking  at  times,"  Southward  agreed. 
"But  it's  generally  when  she's  alone  with  me.  I  don't  think 
you've  ever  seen  that  aspect  of  her." 

"  No,"  Morena  assented.  "  Yes,"  he  contradicted  himself. 
"  Once,  the  first  night  I  met  you  in  the  camp  at  Shayneford.  Do 
you  remember  you  made  her  take  her  hair  down?  I  never  saw 
such  hair.  I  can  still  see  her  figure  quite  lost  in  those  great 
golden  torrents  and  the  firelight  playing  on  her.  Now  Azile " 

The  train  interrupted  here.  He  rested  mute  until  silence  came 
again. 

"  I  think  you'll  find  the  Bronx  very  interesting,"  he  began  as 
soon  as  he  could  make  himself  heard. 

"You  were  saying  something  about  Azile,"  Southward  inter 
rupted. 

"  Oh,  I  had  forgotten."  Morena  paused  and  had  the  effect  of 
plunging  a  long  way  backwards  into  his  own  thought.  "  I  can't 
remember  but  it's  of  no  consequence." 

"It  was  something  about  the  way  she  dressed,"  Southward 
assisted  him. 

"  About  the  way  she  dressed,"  Morena  repeated  meditatively. 
"  Curious  how  one  slips  a  cog  in  this  remembering  business. 
However,  don't  bother,  it's  sure  to  come  back.  My  most  price 
less  thoughts  always  do." 

"  You  had  said,"  Southward  persisted,  "  that  Hester  was  be 
ginning  to  care  and  Edith  was  soignee  and  you  had  just  started 
to  say  something  about  Azile." 

"  Oh,  of  course !  "  Morena  exclaimed  electrically.  "  I  have  it. 
I  was  going  to  say  that  I  think  Azile  understands  her  own  beauty 
and  her  own  powers  of  attraction  more  than  any  other  woman  I've 
ever  known.  She's  a  skilful  dresser — that  lady !  " 

"  Yes,"   Southward  said,   "  I've  observed  that." 

There  were  several  seconds  of  silence  before  the  train  started 
and  during  those  seconds  Southward  was  visibly  distrait. 
Morena  smiled  to  himself. 

Morena  had  visited  many  zoos  in  Europe  and  as  he  took  South 
ward  from  one  animal  house  to  another,  he  talked  of  London, 
Paris,  and  Berlin. 

"  These  buildings  are  very  satisfactory,"  he  said,  "  commodious 
and  clean  and  bright  and  airy  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  But 
the  Romans  have  the  best  scheme.  There  are  no  cages  in  their 
zoo,  no  rooms  like  these,  no  bars.  Only  patches  of  ground 
covered  with  rocks  and  bushes  surrounded  by  wide  trenches. 
You  don't  see  those  trenches  sometimes  until  you  come  to  the 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  295 

low  fences  which  keep  you  from  tumbling  into  them.  You  get 
quite  a  start,  believe  me,  when  you  suddenly  catch  sight  of  a 
lion,  not  very  far  distant,  strolling  casually  in  your  direction." 

"  Oh,  I  should  like  that !  "  exclaimed  Southward.  "  That  would 
interest  me  more  than  anything  in  Rome — the  Forum,  the 
Coliseum,  St.  Peter's — anything." 

"  Perhaps  we'll  all  go  abroad  together  sometime,"  Morena 
threw  off  idly.  "  I'd  like  to  be  with  you  the  first  time  you  see 
Europe.  Of  course  though,  now,  everybody's  prepared  for  it — 
what  with  pictures  and  the  movies.  I  don't  believe  you'd  turn  a 
hair.  You're  such  a  cool  proposition." 

Southward  did  not  reply  to  this;  apparently  it  did  not  interest 
her.  "  I  do  love  lions  and  tigers,"  she  burst  out  suddenly  after 
a  long  interval  in  which  she  stood  immobile  before  one  of  the 
lion-cages.  An  enormous  bushy-headed  yellow  cat  behind  the 
bars  opened  his  eyes  somnolently,  surveyed  her  and  then  dis 
dainfully  closed  them  again.  "  It's  their  strength,  tremendous 
yet  so  quiet  and  so  quick.  I  love  that  kind  of  strength  wherever 
I  see  it,  in  men  or  animals.  Just  lumpy  strength — strength  in 
the  mass — doesn't  make  such  a  hit  with  me." 

The  lion  stretched,  yawned,  arose;  padded  with  a  silent  long- 
muscled  grace  out  the  door  that  led  into  the  next  cage. 

"  It  gives  me  a  great  thrill  to  watch  him !  "  Southward  declared. 
"  The  ease  of  his  movements — the  grace  with  which  his  muscles 
generate  motion.  There's  something  almost  liquid  about  that 
glide.  The  bears  entertain  me  but  they  don't  delight  me.  They 
have  strength  and  speed  without  ease  or  grace — they  lumber  so. 
The  tigers  and  leopards  fascinate  me  more  than  any  of  them 
because  of  their  suppleness.  But  it's  the  lions  I  like  the  most. 
Somehow  I  feel  as  though  lions  would  play  the  game.  If  I'd  been 
an  early  Christian  martyr  and  they'd  given  me  my  choice,  I 
would  have  been  flung  to  the  lions." 

"  I've  never  hunted  big  game,"  Morena  confessed,  "  and  I  never 
shall  now.  The  time  in  which  I  could  have  enjoyed  it  has 
passed.  I'm  rather  a  poor  Spaniard,  I  don't  like  bull-fight 
ing.  When  it  comes  to  animals  I'm  all  Irish.  Sometimes  though 
I  wish  I  had  had  some  experience  hunting  in  the  African 
jungles." 

They  went  from  cage  to  cage,  omitting  none  of  the  big  beasts. 
And  over  this  common  interest,  their  talk  never  flagged;  grew  by 
steady  degrees  more  intimate  and  confidential.  After  they  had 
seen  all  the  animals,  they  took  the  pretty  walk  that  leads  to  the 
waterfall. 


296  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

The  reactionary  warmth  of  the  day  had  melted  some  of  the 
frost  in  the  ground.  The  tree-trunks  were  blackly  damp.  The 
maze  of  ebony  branches  seemed  to  tear  a  complicated  criss-cross 
on  the  hard  blue  of  the  sky.  The  little  brook  purled  with  a  sum 
mer  tinkle.  Now  and  then  a  bird-note  sounded. 

"I've  enjoyed  this  very  much,"  Southward  said  as  they  re 
turned  to  the  subway.  "I'm  going  to  bring  Hester  out  here 
some  day.  And  then  I'll  be  coming  all  the  time  alone.  I  can 
always  get  rid  of  a  grouch  just  by  watching  animals." 

"Any  time  you  want  company  call  me  up,"  Morena  suggested. 
"  I'm  not  tied  down  to  regular  hours,  you  know.  I  can  take  an 
afternoon  or  morning  off  when  I  please.  I'd  like  very  much  to 
come  here  again  with  you." 

"  Thanks !  "  Southward  said  carelessly.     "  I'll  remember  that." 

They  dined  as  Morena  suggested,  in  Chinatown. 

"  I  don't  take  women  here  very  often,"  Morena  explained, 
"  although  I  like  Chinese  cooking  myself.  I  think  most  women 
don't  like  it.  I  had  a  feeling  you  would  though." 

"  I  do,"  Southward  announced  lightly.  "  When  I  was  a  little 
girl,  an  uncle  who  was  in  the  navy  brought  home  a  China  boy 
from  one  of  his  voyages.  My  uncle  had  got  so  used  to 
Chinese  cooking  in  the  Orient  that  he  couldn't  give  it  up.  I've 
often  had  food  cooked  in  the  Chinese  fashion.  And  then  I've  had 
dinner  in  the  Boston  Chinatown  once  or  twice." 

They  dined  in  an  upstairs  cafe  at  a  window  which  opened 
onto  a  little  narrow  curved  street,  packed  with  strange  colour  and 
stranger  smells.  They  had  Chinese  soup  first,  very  thin  and 
pale  with  what  looked  like  great  green  leaves  floating  in  it; 
then  chow  mee  and  chop  suey;  viscid  preserved  Chinese  fruit, 
brittle  papery  Chinese  cake;  thick  heavy  Chinese  candy  covered 
with  bird  seeds;  spicy,  sweetish  Chinese  nuts.  They  drank  several 
pots  of  steaming  Chinese  tea. 

When  the  Chinese  waiter  brought  the  soup,  he  offered  with 
it  Occidental  spoons  of  metal  and  a  little  short  Oriental  one  of 
china.  Southward  chose  the  latter.  Morena  observed  this  with 
out  comment  but  when,  later,  she  chose  chop-sticks  in  preference 
to  a  knife  and  fork,  he  looked  surprised.  He  took  chop-sticks 
himself. 

"  I  learned  when  I  was  a  child,"  Southward  explained.  And 
she  proceeded  to  demonstrate  the  truth  of  this  statement  by  a 
use  so  skilful  of  these  strange  implements  that  the  waiter  con 
templated  her  for  an  instant  of  slant-eyed  immobility. 

After   dinner,    Morena   took   her   from   shop   to   shop    of   the 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  297 

picturesque  district.  Everywhere  he  bought  her  something  but 
he  seemed  to  make  a  point  to  purchase  the  kind  of  toy  that 
would  please  a  child.  Southward  manifestly  enjoyed  this.  She 
was  full  of  sparkle,  laughter,  comment.  Neither  her  strength 
nor  interest  gave  out  and  when  finally  they  reached  the  end  of 
their  explorations,  late  though  it  was,  she  sighed  regretfully. 

"  I've  got  to  get  up  early  to-morrow,"  Morena  announced  on 
the  way  home,  "  and  go  to  work  on  an  article." 

"  What  do  you  call  early  ? "  Southward  demanded. 

"  Eight  o'clock,"  Morena  answered,  "  and  gosh,  how  I  dread  it ! 
It's  the  hardest  business  for  me  to  wake  in  the  morning.  I 
seem  to  sleep  with  an  increasing  heaviness,  light  at  first  and 
heavy  as  sheet  iron  towards  morning.  It's  hard  too  for  me  to 
force  myself  out  of  bed  even  when  I  have  finally  waked." 

"  Why  don't  you  get  an  alarm  clock  ? "  Southward  suggested 
practically. 

"  I  either  sleep  straight  through  the  alarm  or,  after  waking 
up,  turn  over  and  go  to  sleep  again.  What  time  do  you  get  up  ? " 

"  Seven — unless  we're  too  dissipated." 

"  Oh,  I  say !  "  Morena  exclaimed.  "  That's  a  record  for  New 
York.  Look  here,"  he  begged,  "  wake  me  to-morrow  morning 
by  telephone,  when  you  get  up,  will  you  ? " 

"  Sure !  "  Southward  agreed  promptly.  "  There's  nothing  in 
the  world  I  should  enjoy  more  than  ordering  a  lazy  man  out  of 
bed." 

"  And  say,"  Morena  continued  in  a  wheedling  voice,  "  I've  got 
to  work  hard  for  the  next  three  days.  Wake  me  every  morn 
ing,  will  you  ? " 

"  That's  some  responsibility,"  Southward  said  evasively.  For 
a  moment  she  reflected  visibly  on  the  situation.  Then,  "All 
right,"  she  agreed.  "  I'll  wake  you  every  morning  for  the  rest 
of  the  week,  provided  I  don't  stay  out  so  late  the  night  before 
that  I  want  to  sleep  late  myself." 

"  Angel !  "  Morena  approved. 

True  to  her  promise,  Southward  called  Morena  on  the  telephone 
early  next  morning. 

"  Hello !  Hello !  "  Morena's  voice,  a  little  sleepy  answered.  "  Is 
this  the  angel?" 

"  It  is ! "  Southward  answered.  "  You're  up.  This  is  your 
signal  to  stay  up.  Are  you  awake  ? " 

"  Not  so  awake  as  I  shall  be  if  you'll  stay  here  and  talk  to  me 
for  a  while." 


298  THE  LADY  OP  KINGDOMS 

"You're  as  awake  as  you're  going  to  be  then,"  Southward  re 
torted.  "  My  coffee  is  waiting  and  I  wouldn't  let  that  get  cold 
to  save  you  from  the  everlasting  pit." 

She  called  him  the  next  morning  and  the  next  and  the  next. 
Morena  insisted  that  her  commands  over  the  telephone  did  more 
to  dispel  his  drowsiness  than  his  cold  bath.  He  paid  her  many 
extravagant  compliments  on  her  voice,  its  clearness  and  carrying 
quality.  He  said  it  was  like  the  sound  of  a  waterfall  in  a  desert. 
At  the  end  of  the  week,  Southward  announced  that  her  labours 
were  over.  But  he  persuaded  her  under  one  pretext  or  another 
to  keep  on  indefinitely  until  it  became  a  fixed  custom.  Gradually 
their  morning  conversations  lengthened.  Once,  when  Morena  was 
relating  a  merry  adventure  of  the  night  before,  she  interrupted  to 
snatch  her  coffee  from  the  table.  She  drank  it  leisurely,  listen 
ing  to  his  narrative.  And  once,  in  the  middle  of  the  afternoon, 
just  before  she  curled  into  the  nap  which  had  become  necessary 
because  of  some  dissipation  of  the  night  before,  she  called  up 
Morena  and  ordered  him  to  wake  her  in  an  hour.  The  system 
became  mutually  active  and  mutually  useful. 


CHAPTER  XI 

SOUTHWARD  saw  more  of  Azile  Morrow  than  of  any  other 
woman.  Promptly  within  a  week  of  her  week-end  stay  with 
Azile,  she  invited  her  to  go  to  a  matinee.  Afterwards  they  went 
to  tea  together.  Within  the  ensuing  week,  Azile  asked  Southward 
to  accompany  her  on  an  all-day  "  spree."  Southward  accepted. 
Azile  arrived  at  the  apartment  at  about  eleven.  They  spent  the 
morning  going  from  place  to  place;  Azile  had  come  in  a  taxi 
and  no  matter  how  long  they  stayed  inside  the  shops  she  kept 
the  machine  waiting  at  the  door.  They  went  first  to  a  big  de 
partment-store  on  the  Avenue  to  buy  the  materials  for  an  even 
ing  gown.  Azile  professed  herself  dissatisfied  with  everything 
they  saw,  and  departed  carrying  an  envelope  full  of  samples. 
From  there,  they  went  to  a  smaller  shop  where,  still  dissatisfied, 
she  obtained  another  lot  of  samples.  Then  to  another  department- 
store  and  another,  then  to  a  series  of  small  specialty  shops.  Here 
she  picked  up  all  kinds  of  expensive  trifles  that  she  apparently 
had  had  no  intention  of  getting  when  she  started,  had  them  sent 
home.  In  the  end  she  went  back  to  the  first  shop  and  bought 
the  materials  for  two  dresses  there.  She  consulted  Southward 
on  many  points  and  sometimes  she  followed  the  advice,  oftener 
some  sudden  caprice  of  her  own. 

"  You  don't  care  much  about  shopping  ? "  she  said  questioningly 
towards  the  end  of  their  expedition. 

"  No,"  Southward  answered,  "  not  very  much.  It  rather  bores 
me.  I  don't  spend  much  money  on  clothes.  I  can't  afford  it  in 
the  first  place.  And  then  I  don't  like  to  have  many  clothes. 
Twice  a  year  I  plan  exactly  what  I  need  for  the  next  six  months, 
buy  everything  at  one  fell  swoop.  And  then  I  don't  think  of 
clothes  again  until  another  six  months  have  gone  by." 

"  How  curious !  "  Azile  remarked.  "  I'm  buying  things  all  the 
time  and  so  of  course  I'm  going  to  the  dressmaker  every  minute. 
I  always  feel  that  a  new  occasion  requires  a  special  cos 
tume.  It's  my  way  of  setting  the  scene  I  suppose.  Now  this 
gown  I  have  just  bought — the  purple  and  cerise — is  for  an  occa 
sion.  Dwight's  club  has  a  Ladies'  Day  this  month.  He  always 
invites  me  of  course  and  I  always  plan  to  have  something  new 
for  it." 

299 


300  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Southward  made  no  comment;  and  Azile  herself  seemed  there 
after  a  little  to  lose  interest  in  clothes.  They  went  to  a  Fifth 
Avenue  hotel  for  lunch. 

The  big  room  was  overcrowded  with  tables  that  seemed  over 
crowded  with  women.  Crashes  of  music  from  a  concealed 
orchestra  attacked  but  did  not  drown  or  interrupt  a  high  shrill 
vocal  clatter.  The  perfume  of  the  flowers,  abundant  and  ex 
quisitely  fresh,  contended  in  the  atmosphere  with  the  savoury 
odours  of  the  food  that  the  waiters  were  scooping  from  the  thick 
est  of  silver  platters  onto  the  thinnest  of  porcelain  dishes.  Every 
where  tables  were  evacuating,  filling  up  again,  becoming  concen 
trated  centres  of  talk  and  laughter.  Waiters  tripped  deftly 
through  the  perilous  channels  between  these  noisy  islands,  carving 
and  serving  with  a  quick,  quiet  expertness.  A  head  waiter  with 
an  eye  to  every  flicker  of  movement  in  the  room  surveyed  the 
scene  and  ordered  all  these  opposing  forces.  When  he  saw  .Azile, 
he  hurried  to  her  side. 

"  Did  you  reserve  a  place  for  me,  Henri  ? "  she  demanded 
languidly. 

"Yes,  madam,"  Henri  answered  deferentially.  He  indicated 
a  table  with  two  chairs  by  the  window. 

Azile  placed  Southward  in  the  position  which  commanded  the 
room.  She  was  assisted  by  a  group  of  waiters  who,  even  after 
they  were  seated,  continued  to  hover  assiduously  in  their  neigh 
bourhood.  Henri  handed  them  huge  cards  which  offered  them, 
in  several  languages,  a  choice  of  many  foods. 

"  What  would  you  like,  Miss  Drake  ? "  Azile  asked  perfunctorily. 
But  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  "  What's  good  ? "  she  de 
manded  of  Henri,  who  still  stood  or  bent,  a  deferential  but  sym 
pathetic  human  right  angle,  at  her  side. 

Henri  murmured  a  patter  of  professional  advice. 

"  What  would  you  like,  Miss  Drake  ? "  again  Azile  asked. 
And  again  without  waiting  for  an  answer,  "  Oh,  it's  all 
so  hopeless.  New  York  food  is  so  bad  and  there's  never  any 
thing  new.  Strawberries  sound  good.  But  will  they  be  sweet, 
Henri?" 

Henry  was  enthusiastic  on  the  subject  of  strawberries. 

"  What  do  you  say,  Miss  Drake  ? "  Azile  asked.  "  Don't  blame 
me  though  if  they  taste  like  lemon-drops." 

At  Azile's  first  appeal,  Southward's  lips  had  started  to  form 
words.  But  at  her  second,  they  had  not  stirred.  Now  with  a 
perfect  composure,  she  waited  an  instant  as  if  to  make  sure  that 
an  answer  was  expected  of  her.  "Anything,"  she  said  at  last — 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  301 

politely  but  with  a  superb  indifference,  "  I  eat  everything.  What 
ever  you  order  will  please  me." 

Azile  selected,  after  much  discussion  with  Henri  of  every 
detail,  a  lunch  that  had  the  appearance  of  simplicity  and  an 
effect  equally  great  of  extravagance.  It  began  with  cocktails,  for 
the  mixing  of  which  she  gave  explicit  direction;  it  ended  with 
the  strawberries  that  she  at  last  decided  to  attempt  and  which 
proved  to  be  blood-red  and  delicious.  It  included  a  delicate  thin 
soup,  a  delicate  white  fish  with  a  French  sauce,  delicate  slices  of 
cold  chicken,  a  delicate  pale-green  salad.  All  the  time,  she  was 
bowing  to  people  who  were  coming  in  or  going  out,  or  apparently 
ensconcing  themselves  indefinitely.  Once  she  left  Southward  to 
join  a  group  of  women,  who  sumptuously  dressed  and  elaborately 
made  up,  emitted  at  a  neighbouring  table  a  maelstrom  of  excited 
talk. 

"  They're  going  to  a  matinee,"  she  told  Southward  on 
her  return.  " '  Mary's  Mother.'  I  have  some  tickets  for  it  in 
my  bag  and  perhaps  we'll  drop  in  for  an  act  or  two  later.  They 
say  it's  good  but  you  never  can  tell.  I  should  hate  it  to  turn 
out  tiresome.  I've  got  to  do  a  little  more  shopping  first  though." 

The  shopping  entailed  going  to  a  bookstore  where  she  bought 
a  volume  of  essays. 

"  It's  to  be  sent,"  she  directed  the  salesman.  "  Give  me 
pen  and  ink,  please." 

With  the  fountain-pen  he  handed  her,  she  inscribed  a  long  mes 
sage,  apparently  in  the  nature  of  a  note,  on  the  fly-leaf.  Then 
she  gave  the  address — Dwight's. 

"  There's  an  essay  in  it  on  The  Point  of  View  in  Fiction," 
she  explained.  "Dwight  and  I  have  been  having  a  discussion  on 
that  matter  and  I'm  bolstering  up  my  side  of  the  case  with 
authority.  Do  you  know  anything  about  it  ? " 

Southward  answered  this  careless  explanation  with  a  state 
ment  equally  careless.  "  We  used  to  have  some  discussion  about 
it  in  college.  But  I  really  know  nothing  about  it.  It  never  in 
terested  me." 

They  emerged  into  the  air  again. 

"Let  me  see,"  Azile  meditated,  "I  really  don't  think  of  any 
thing  else  I  can  do  now  except — oh,  yes,  I'd  better  call  Dwight 
right  up  and  tell  him  I've  sent  the  book." 

They  went  to  a  hotel  for  this.  Southward  sat  in  the  lobby 
opposite  the  telephone-box  into  which  Azile  shut  herself.  Through 
the  glass  door,  Azile's  figure  was  clearly  distinguishable.  It  was 
a  long  conversation  and  apparently  an  interesting  one.  Azile 


302 

dropped  nickle  after  nickle  in  the  slot.  Several  times,  she  threw 
her  head  back  and  laughed  with  an  appearance  of  mirth,  almost 
uproarious.  She  was  laughing  when  she  opened  the  door. 

"  Dwight  is  a  witty  thing,"  she  commented.  But  she  vouch 
safed  no  elaboration  of  her  remark. 

They  walked  up  the  Avenue,  Azile  racking  her  brains,  she  said, 
to  recall  the  many  things  she  needed;  for  the  want  of  which 
she  prophesied,  she  would  "  perish "  the  instant  she  got  home. 
Passing  another  hotel,  she  suddenly  remembered  that  she  had 
forgotten  to  ask  Dwight  to  join  them  at  tea.  She  telephoned 
again.  Another  interminable  conversation  ensued.  As  before 
when  she  came  out  of  the  telephone-box,  she  was  laughing. 

"  He  says  he'll  call  at  the  theatre  for  us,"  she  announced  to 
Southward.  "  I  think  we'd  better  be  making  our  way  up  there 
now." 

They  started  in  the  direction  of  the  theatre;  but  twice  articles 
that  Azile  saw  in  window  displays  and  twice  things  that  she 
suddenly  remembered  took  them  into  shops.  The  curtain  of  the 
first  act  was  just  falling  as  they  gained  seats.  Southward  found 
the  play  interesting  and  said  so  once.  Azile  found  it  dull  and 
said  so  many  times.  She  complained  because  their  seats  in  the 
second  row  were  a  little  too  near.  She  explained  that  she  had 
forgotten  the  irritating  fact  about  this  particular  theatre  that  the 
front  seats  were  too  low  for  comfort.  Her  comments  proved  that 
she  had  experienced  preferences  in  seats  in  most  of  the  New  York 
theatres.  She  bowed  to  many  people  and,  between  the  third  and 
fourth  acts,  slipped  away  to  join  a  party  of  women  in  a  stage- 
box.  When  they  left  the  theatre,  they  found  Dwight  waiting 
for  them. 

"  This  seems  to  have  been  a  regular  tear !  "  he  remarked  cheer 
fully  after  Azile  had  given  him  a  detailed  account  of  the 
day's  doings.  "  How  do  you  like  the  New  York  pace,  South 
ward?" 

"  I  like  it  exceedingly,"  Southward  answered  briefly  but  with 
enthusiasm.  "  I've  always  known  I'd  like  it." 

"Tea?"   Dwight  went   on.     "And   where?" 

"  Oh,  the  Pat,"  Azile  answered,  "  Miss  Drake  will  enjoy  that. 
I'd  like  to  be  with  her  when  she  sees  it  for  the  first  time." 

Southward  did  not  explain  that  she  had  been  to  the  Patriarch 
before.  Dwight  also  kept  silent  on  this  point.  They  sat  for  an 
hour  in  a  room  even  more  brilliant  than  the  one  in  which  they 
had  lunched,  and  even  more  crowded  with  extravagantly  dressed 
women.  Azile  chattered  incessantly.  She  emitted  a  medley  of 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  303 

autobiographical  data,  social  allusion,  and  derisive  comment; 
clear  apparently  to  Dwight  but  inevitably  obscure  to  Southward. 
Dwight  kept  slipping  in  Southward's  direction  little  swift  ex 
planatory  phrases. 

"What  are  you  girls  doing  this  evening?"  Dwight  demanded 
as  he  paid  the  bill. 

"  I  have  an  engagement  to  go  to  a  movie  with  Hester,"  South 
ward  answered  promptly. 

"  Oh,  damn !  "  Dwight  said  in  a  disappointed  tone.  "  And  you, 
Azile?" 

"  Nothing,"  Azile  answered  hastily.  "  But  how  does  it  hap 
pen  you're  free?  This  isn't  your  day  off." 

"  Yes,  it  is,"  Dwight  interrupted.  "  Or  it's  one  of  them.  I'm 
in  holiday  mood  to-day  because  I've  just  pulled  off  a  deal  with 
the  boss  by  which  I'm  to  have  two  days  a  week.  I'm  doing 
double  duty  in  other  respects:  so  he  loses  nothing.  But  it  will 
give  me  more  time  to  work  on  the  novel.  I've  got  to  celebrate 
to-night  someway." 

"  I  know  how  you're  going  to  celebrate  it  then,"  Azile  stated 
with  a  pretty  dictatoriousness.  *'  You're  going  to  celebrate  it  by 
overhauling  that  last  chapter." 

Dwight  made  an  impatient  gesture.  "  Can't  do  it  to-night, 
Azile." 

"  You  must,"  Azile  insisted  with  sweetness. 

"  No,"  Dwight  persisted,  "  No  can  do.  Well,  perhaps  after 
all  the  thing  I  need  is  sleep.  I  guess  I'll  hit  the  hay  early,  and 
make  a  good  start  to-morrow." 

"  Get  up  to  the  house  early  as  you  want,"  Azile  said. 

Dwight  and  Azile  walked  home  with  Southward.  Neither 
would  come  up.  They  left  together.  Southward  was  silent 
through  the  simple  %but  very  delicious  dinner  which  Hester  had 
cooked  for  her.  Her  eye  was  absent.  A  frown  played  constantly 
on  her  brow  and  sometimes  it  deepened  until  it  seemed  that  a 
sudden  black  glimpse  of  the  Drake  temper  might  show  itself. 

"  What  is  it,  O  Lady  of  Kingdoms  ? "  Hester  asked  gently 
once. 

At  this  Southward's  smile  made  a  delicious  glimmer  under  the 
black  frown.  "  Insubordination  in  the  ranks,"  she  explained 
briefly.  But  her  smile  was  but  a  brief  burst  of  lightness.  Her 
face  fell  back  at  once  into  a  black  gloom. 

Hester  did  not  speak  again.  Nor  did  Southward.  The  silence 
was  so  great  that  at  the  ring  of  the  telephone  both  girls  jumped. 
Southward  answered  it  with  an  impatient  "  Hello  1  hello ! "  But 


304  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

in  a  surprised  voice,  she  added,  "  Oh,  is  it  you  ? "  and  in  a  formal 
one,  "  Of  course.  We'd  like  to  have  you — very  much." 

"  It's  Dwight,"  she  explained  to  Hester.  "  I  told  him  that 
we  were  going  to  the  movies  to-night  and  he  asked  if  he  might 
go  with  us.  Of  course  I  said,  yes." 

Her  voice  and  manner  were  perfunctory  but  that  black  cloud 
had  magically  disappeared  from  her  brow.  A  something  so 
triumphant  that  it  was  almost  exaltation  made  her  face  brilliant. 
Curiously  enough,  even  more  than  the  dark  frowning  of  a  moment 
ago,  it  brought  out  that  predatory  cruelty  which  seemed,  even  in 
her  gentlest  moments,  to  lurk  in  her  expression: 

"That's  all  right,"  was  all  Hester  said. 


CHAPTER  XII 

HER  first  expedition  with  Dwight  was  soon  followed  by  another, 
quite  dissimilar  in  character. 

"  I'm  going  to  take  you  three  places  this  afternoon,"  he  an 
nounced.  "  First  of  all  we're  going  to  call  on  Dora  Dewing." 

"And  who,"  Southward  demanded,  "is  Dora  Dewing?" 

"  Dora  is  an  authorine,"  Dwight  explained.  "  She  writes  foolish 
stuff — futile  little  verses  and  silly  little  he-and-she  stories.  I  hate 
Dora's  work  and  I've  often  told  her  so,  but  I  like  Dora.  She's 
a  corker.  It's  a  queer  thing  to  see,"  he  went  on  meditatively, 
"  how  those  guys  whose  work  you've  been  following  for  years  match 
up  with  your  ideas  of  them.  I've  noticed  that  particularly  in 
interviewing.  For  instance,  comes  along  a  gink  that  you've  ad 
mired  at  the  distance  of  the  printed  page  ever  since  you  can 
remember.  His  stuff  has  done  all  kinds  of  things  to  you — wakes 
you  up,  makes  you  think,  rings  whole  chimes  of  bells  in  your 
mind — he's  your  man  in  a  manner  of  speaking.  Even  when  he's 
at  his  worst,  he  has  something  for  you.  And  then,  by  Jove,  you 
meet  him  and  he  won't  seem  to  have  a  thing  on  him.  He's  as 
empty  as  a  drum  and  sounds  twice  as  hollow.  He's  putting  it  all 
into  his  pen-finger.  It's  flowing  out  there  in  a  steady  torrent 
but  there  isn't  a  thing  left  inside.  Believe  me,  that's  some  disil 
lusion.  Then  appears  another  guy.  You  hate  his  stuff.  You 
call  it  truck.  It  makes  you  tired.  You  go  to  interview  him  and 
he's  a  corker.  He's  got  all  of  it — character  and  personality,  charm 
and  ideas  too.  He's  got  a  lot  on  him  but  he  doesn't  seem  to 
make  any  writing  connection  with  it.  I  don't  know  but  of  all 
the  experiences  you  strike,  that's  the  strangest.  So  Dora.  I  hate 
her  stuff,  but  Dora's  the  goods.  Once  in  a  dog's  age,  you  meet  a 
celebrity  who  measures  up  to  specifications  in  both  ways  and, 
believe  me,  that's  some  experience.  Why,  when  I  went  to  inter 
view  Reberot — that  fellow  who's  doing  such  marvellous  exploration 
in  the  Andes — I  got  there  at  ten  and  we  talked  until  three  before 
either  of  us  thought  of  luncheon.  We  just  fell  together." 

To  get  to  Dora's,  they  entered  a  low  doorway  on  a  West  Side 
street.  They  walked  through  a  long  narrow  dark  hall  into  a  short 
wide  light  one,  knocked  at  a  door  at  the  end. 

305 


306  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

It  opened  and  Southward  gasped.  The  big  room  which  they 
entered  was  one  of  two  connecting  heights  as  to  ceiling  and  dif 
ferent  levels  as  to  floor.  The  walls  were  whitewashed  a  soft 
cream,  the  floors  polished  to  a  deep  amber.  There  was  little 
furniture;  but  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  perhaps,  Southward 
found  herself  looking  at  the  things  in  a  room,  not  the  people.  A 
big  maple  high-boy,  a  small  maple  low-boy,  old  Boston  rockers, 
a  sailor's  chest,  a  small  butterfly  table,  a  big  hundred-legged  one, 
rag-rugs,  samplers,  silhouettes,  portraits  under  glass — her  eye 
slid  from  one  to  the  other. 

"  I  guess  I've  come  as  near  to  being  homesick  as  J  ever  will," 
Southward  admitted. 

But  this  absorption  passed  immediately.  Southward  turned  a 
gaze  which  carried  it's  customary  alert  composure  on  the  woman 
who  at  Dwight's  "  Oh,  here  you  are,  Dora  darling !  "  turned  from 
her  guests  to  greet  them. 

She  was  a  tall  big  woman,  neutrally  blond,  superficially  a  little 
expressionless,  an  effect  that  a  pronounced  cast  in  one  eye  seemed 
to  exaggerate. 

"  I'm  glad  to  meet  you  at  last,  Miss  Drake,"  she  said,  hold 
ing  Southward's  hand  for  a  friendly  interval.  "  It's  nearly 
three  weeks  now  that  Dwight  has  been  promising  to  bring  you 
here." 

Southward  murmured  a  conventional  reply.  Miss  Dewing  turned 
to  answer  at  length  the  question  which  Dwight  put  to  her.  South 
ward  examined  her  with  the  minute  scrutiny  to  which  she  sub 
mitted  every  woman. 

Miss  Dewing  turned  back  to  her  at  once  and  ignoring  Dwight 
introduced  her  to  all  her  friends.  Miss  Dewing  drew  her  first  with 
one,  then  with  another,  into  talk  while  she  poured  their  tea.  She 
was  a  woman  of  a  rare  social  gift,  a  quality  that  manifested  itself 
slowly  but  which  must  in  time  have  become  evident  to  the  most 
unperceptive.  She  not  only  never  interrupted  but  she  listened 
with  a  real  interest  and  a  rare  deference.  When  she  ventured 
a  statement  it  was  always  a  contribution.  Perhaps  it  was  one 
tribute  to  her  personality  that  among  her  guests  there  were  as 
many  men  as  women.  Perhaps  it  was  a  tribute  of  another  kind 
that  the  women  were  all  pretty.  That  it  was  an  intimate  group 
immediately  became  apparent.  Christian  names  and  nicknames 
flew  about  and  the  conversation  took  on  that  enigmatic  intimacy 
often  so  baffling  to  an  outsider.  Miss  Dewing  apparently  realised 
this;  for  she  kept  casting  in  Southward's  direction  little  sidelights 
of  description  and  explanation.  And  although  she  seemed  to  bear 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  307 

so  small  a  part  in  the  conversation,  deftly  and  unobtrusively  she 
kept  turning  it  into  channels  which  Southward  could  enter. 

"  That  woman's  a  wonder,"  Southward  commented  as  they  came 
out  a  half  an  hour  later.  "  She  grew  on  me.  At  first  I 
thought  she  was  awfully  plain.  But  she  was  so  charming,  I  found 
myself  deciding  that  she  was  attractive  before  I  knew  it." 

She  visibly  dropped  into  meditation  from  which  Dwight  did 
not  for  the  minute  arouse  her.  "  It's  always  such  a  surprise  when 
a.  plain  woman  like  that  puts  it  all  over  the  rest  of  the  women 
in  the  room." 

"  Such  a  flock  of  pippins  too,"  Dwight  answered.  "  Yes,  that's 
a  great  scoop.  I  always  like  to  see  it  done.  John  says  that  the 
plain  woman  with  a  big  personality  beats  the  beauty  with  only  a 
limited  amount  of  personality  every  time.  He  says  you  expect 
nothing  of  the  plain  woman  and  so  anything  you  get  is  clear  gain. 
And  when  the  charm  of  personality  begins  definitely  to  assert  itself 
— with  the  inevitable  result  of  making  her  seem  less  plain  and 
often  of  giving  her  an  unexpected  beauty — you  feel  that  you've 
struck  gold.  The  negative  pretty  woman  is  steadily  losing  in 
charm  whereas  the  interesting  plain  one  is  always  gaining." 

"  I  see,"  Southward  said  slowly.  "  There's  an  awful  lot  in  that, 
isn't  there?  But  do  you  know  it  never  struck  me  before." 

"  John  also  says,"  Dwight  continued,  smiling,  "  that  if  he  were 
married  to  a  pretty  woman  who  was  silly,  he'd  certainly  kill  her. 
It's  rather  amusing  coming  from  old  John.  He's  such  a  gentle 
cuss.  He  always  says  that  he'd  much  rather  marry  a  plain  woman 
with  brains  than  a  pretty  woman  without  brains  because,  in 
the  case  of  the  pretty  woman,  her  beauty  would  ultimately 
become  an  extra  exasperation.  But  John  has  always  rooted 
for  what  he  calls  the  hidden  beauty,  the  beauty  you  discover 
yourself." 

"  I  suppose  that's  why  he  enjoys  Hester  so  much,"  Southward 
commented  thoughtfully.  "  Not  that  Hester  is  plain  of  course. 
She's  far  from  that.  But  her  looks  are  so  dependent  on  her  mood — 
not  perhaps  that  so  much — as  the  people  she's  with." 

"  Yes.  John  has  said  something  like  that.  I  have  never  seen 
a  woman  improve  as  Hester  has.  She  really  looks  like  quite 
another  girl." 

"  It's  a  miracle,"  Southward  spoke  with  the  gentleness  of  tone 
which  always  she  employed  towards  Hester. 

"  She's  not  the  only  one  the  trip  to  New  York  has  improved," 
Dwight  insinuated  slyly,  "  if  improvement  could  be  made  on  per 
fection.  Believe  me,  young  woman,  you're  somewhat  of  a  looker 


308  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

yourself  these  days.  I  can  gaze  at  you  several  moments  at  a  time 
without  suffering  perceptible  boredom." 

Southward  accepted  this,  as  she  accepted  all  compliments,  with 
composure,  the  faint  glimmer  of  her  mirth  irradiating  her  eyes. 

"  Have  you  known  Miss  Dewing  long  ?  "  she  asked  casually. 

"  Yes,  for  several  years,"  Dwight  answered.  "  We've  knocked 
about  a  good  deal  exploring  New  York.  In  fact  we're  going  off 
on  a  hike  to-morrow." 

On  this  Southward  made  no  comment  and  Dwight  himself 
vouchsafed  no  further  information. 

"  One  of  my  publishers — Wendell  of  Wendell  and  Daly — is  giving 
a  tea  this  afternoon,"  Dwight  went  on  presently.  "  I  thought 
we  might  drop  in  there — I  called  him  up  this  morning  in  fact 
and  told  him  I  was  going  to  bring  you.  Then  there's  a  woman 
friend  of  mine — Jane  Yates — who's  trying  to  establish  herself  as 
a  literary  agent.  I  want  you  to  know  Jane." 

They  divided  the  interval  between  dinner  at  these  two  places. 
Mr.  Wendell  occupied  rooms  in  a  bachelor  apartment  on  Madison 
Avenue.  They  were  richly  furnished;  old  French  furniture,  old 
French  tapestries;  a  few  good  pictures,  flowering  plants;  a  tea 
service  in  old  silver;  and  they  were  so  big  that  although  there 
were  many  people  in  them,  they  had  no  effect  of  being  crowded. 
Tete-a-tete  groups  sat  about  in  the  delicate  light  from  shaded 
candles,  sipping  their  tea  and  talking  languidly. 

Mr.  Wendell  was  a  tall,  portly  man  just  entering  the  first  period 
of  a  rubicund  greyness.  Youngish,  oldish,  it  was  difficult  to  say 
whether  he  was  middle-aged  or  not.  But  apparently,  Mr.  Wendell 
himself  had  no  doubts  on  the  subject.  The  semi-flirtations,  semi- 
jocular  tete-a-tete  into  which  he  immediately  drew  Southward,  pro 
ceeded  on  a  plane  of  age-equality. 

"  Beat  it ! "  he  commanded  Dwight,  who  grinned  at  his  com 
plimentary  broadsides,  "do  get  out  of  our  cruising  radius!  Miss 
Drake  and  I  don't  want  you  blanketing  all  our  finest  effects. 
Besides,  Patty  Thompson  is  wandering  about  here  somewhere 
with  a  copy  of  Ginger  she  wants  you  to  autograph." 

Simultaneously,  came  an  exclamation,  "  Oh,  Dwight !  There 
you  are,  apple  of  my  eye !  "  A  big  red-headed  girl  flew  with  an 
astonishing  lightness  across  the  room,  straight  to  Dwight's  side. 
She  was  carrying  the  brown-and-gold  Ginger.  "  Write  in  it  now 
while  you  have  time,  Dwight  darling,"  she  wheedled. 

Dwight  grinned  but  he  obediently  took  the  book. 

"  What  shall  I  write,  Patty  my  angel  ?  "  he  demanded. 

"  Something  sweet,"  Patty  answered  promptly. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  309 

"  All  right,"  Dwight  acceded  amiably.  He  wrote,  "  Something 
sweet."  He  added  to  it,  "  That's  you,  Patty  my  love ! "  and 
signed  it. 

"  You  villain !  "  Patty  commented,  with  obvious  delight,  reading 
the  inscription  over  his  shoulder.  "Thanks!  Say,  Dwight,  when 
are  we  going  to  look  up  that  haunted  house  ? " 

"  Any  time  you  set,"  Dwight  answered  cheerfully.  "  I'm  free 
mornings  you  know  and  now  I  have  two  whole  days  a  week. 
Thursdays  and  Fridays." 

"  How  about  next  week,  Thursday  ?  "  Patty  queried. 

"All  right,"  Dwight  acceded.  "Thursday  of  next  week.  I'll 
make  a  Sunday  story  out  of  it,  Patty  darling." 

Southward  had  been  responding  in  a  measure  to  the  flirtatious 
sallies  of  her  host.  But  all  the  time  she  had  been  surveying  the 
assembly  with  a  volley  of  her  swift  darting  glances.  Now, 
surreptitiously  she  studied  Miss  Thompson. 

She  was  tall  and  so  plump  that  she  just  grazed  being  stout, 
red-headed,  grey-eyed,  with  a  complexion  of  such  a  smooth  white 
ness  that  the  deep  rose  in  her  cheek  was  like  a  stain  on  marble. 
She,  it  was  evident,  was  the  mistress  of  the  ready  rejoinder  that 
passes  for  wit.  With  men,  she  alternately  coaxed,  cajoled,  or 
rallied  and  harried.  She  drew  Dwight  into  an  impudent  colloquy 
in  which,  in  strophe  and  antistrophe,  they  made  extravagant  love 
or  offered  outrageous  abuse  to  each  other. 

"  You're  a  horrid  person,  Dwight,"  the  lady  concluded.  "  Some 
times  I  think  I  won't  marry  you." 

"  Cast  me  not  aside,  little  one,"  Dwight  entreated,  as  Ginger 
under  her  arm,  she  retreated  to  the  group  she  had  deserted;  began 
to  coquette  with  another  victim  there. 

Dwight  brought  many  of  the  company  to  Southward.  It  was 
prevailingly  "  smart "  in  tone.  The  women  were  exquisitely 
dressed,  everywhere  their  beautiful  furs  made  spots  of  shadow; 
their  flowers  touched  the  air  freshly.  The  men  wore  correct  after 
noon  clothes;  often  they  looked  more  English  than  American. 
They  did  not  stay  long,  but  long  enough  for  Dwight  to  accept  a 
dinner  invitation  from  Kathleen  Warren,  a  tall  blonde  in  sables 
and  orchids. 

"  I  just  wanted  you  to  get  a  glimpse  of  it,"  Dwight  explained 
as  they  came  out.  "  Now  for  Jane  Yates." 

"  The  literary  agent  ? "  Southward  asked. 

"  Yes." 

"  Just  exactly  what  is  that  ?  " 

"  She's   the   middleman   between   author   and  publisher.     She 


310  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

places  the  author's  stuff  and  gets  a  commission  on  it.  Jane's  just 
begun  to  establish  herself  and  she's  doing  well.  It  happened  that 
Wendell  and  Jane  were  both  giving  a  tea,  and,  as  it  was  Dora's 
day  at  home — and  she  always  has  a  mob — I  thought  it  would  be 
a  good  chance  for  you  to  see  the  whole  chain.  Jane's  rather 
remarkable,  I  think." 

"  I  should  think  that  would  be  a  fine  job  for  a  middle-aged 
woman,"  Southward  commented  thoughtfully,  "  and  what  a  good 
name  for  business — Jane — how  plain  and  competent  it  sounds !  It 
inspires  trust." 

Dwight  did  not  answer  this  but  he  smiled  as  at  some  amusing 
train  of  thought.  Miss  Yates'  apartment  was  farther  uptown 
and  in  comparison  with  both  the  other  two,  tiny.  There  were 
more  people  present  than  at  either  of  the  preceding  teas;  the 
rooms  were  definitely  crowded.  Dwight  wormed  a  way  for 
himself  and  Southward  through  a  packed  mob  most  of  whom 
he  seemed  to  know.  They  greeted  him  with  every  variety  of 
badinage. 

"  Jane,  love  of  my  life,"  he  exclaimed  suddenly,  "  here  you  are, 
as  usual  surrounded  by  men.  Here's  the  Cape  Codder  I  promised 
you." 

Jane  was  a  startling  woman,  big  but  with  a  velvety  dark  beauty, 
Spanish  in  effect.  This  she  quieted  as  much  as  possible  by  her 
simple  gown  of  lustreless  black,  a  white  fichu  pinned  at  the 
V-neck  with  a  huge  cameo-pin.  Her  crinkled,  smoky-black  hair 
done  simply  too,  brushed  softly  from  the  milky  middle  part  to  an 
enormous  bunch  in  her  neck.  Her  great  dark  eyes  and  her  wide 
.red  mouth  put  light  and  colour  into  a  face  that  was  the  tone  of 
old  ivory.  Back  of  the  brooding  duskiness  of  her  expression, 
however,  lay  a  resolved  something  that  seemed  to  break  in  the 
quickness  and  efficiency  of  her  movements.  That  alien,  superim 
posed  quality  made  a  strange  contrasting  havoc  of  her  native 
semi-tropical  languor. 

She  asked  Southward  some  of  the  questions  that  the  seasoned 
New  Yorker  inevitably  asks  of  the  newcomer;  but  she  asked  them 
perfunctorily. 

"  By  the  way,  Dwight,"  she  demanded  suddenly,  "  how  is  the 
novel  getting  on? " 

"  I'm  working  like  the  dickens  on  it,"  Dwight  said.  "  Honest, 
Jane. 

"  That's  what  you  always  say,"  Miss  Yates  charged  him.  "  But 
do  you  really  mean  it?  " 

"  Sure,  Jane ! "  Dwight  answered  fluently,  "  I'm  tearing  great 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  311 

wads  off  every  day.  I'm  nailing  like  the  very  old  Nick.  Ask 
Azile.  Ask  Miss  Drake  here." 

"  I  don't  know  anything  about  it,"  Southward  protested  promptly. 

"  You  little  coward ! "  Dwight  commented.  "  Not  standing 
by  a  pal  in  his  hour  of  need." 

"  I'm  going  to  get  a  writ  of  habeas  corpus  out  soon,"  Miss 
Yates  threatened.  "  Produce  the  novel !  Say,  Dwight,  can't  you 
bring  up  a  chapter  or  two  some  morning  next  week  and  read  it  to 
me?" 

"  Easiest  thing  I  do,"  Dwight  admitted,  "  reading  from  my  own 
immortal  works." 

"  Tuesday,"  Miss  Yates  decided  after  consulting  the  calendar 
that  lay  on  her  desk,  "how  about  Tuesday?" 

"  O.  K.  for  me,"  Dwight  agreed.  "  Tuesday  it  is.  Say,  can't  I 
bring  Azile  along?  She's  been  awfully  interested  in  it.  Some 
times  I  tell  her  she  knows  more  about  it  than  I  do.  Certainly 
she's  done  her  best  to  keep  my  nose  to  the  grindstone.  Jemimia 
Jane,  you  females  is  certainly  born  slave-drivers." 

"  Well,  by  this  time,"  Jane  replied,  "  perhaps  you  are  ready  to 
admit  that  that's  what  you  need.  Don't  you  think  so?"  She 
turned  politely  and  included  Southward  in  the  conversation. 

"  I  really  don't  know,"  Southward  declared  with  equal  polite 
ness,  "  except  that  everybody  does." 

"  Well  thrust,  brave  girl,"  Dwight  applauded.  "  Have  at  her 
again !  I  hereby  appoint  you  my  bodyguard." 

"  And  I  hereby  decline  the  job,"  Southward  announced. 

"  They  all  throw  me  down,  Jane ! "  Dwight  said  with  a  display 
of  burlesque  self-pity.  "  I  feel  confident  that  you're  the  only  one 
who  will  cling  to  me  to  the  end.  I  know  you'll  send  me  flowers 
when  I  go  to  prison." 

"  I  won't  cling  one  instant  beyond  three  months  from  date," 
Jane  insisted,  "  unless  you  deliver  that  novel." 

Dwight  grinned.  It  was  apparent  that  he  did  not  fear  Jane's 
desertion.  He  took  Southward  around  the  circle  of  Jane's  friends. 
As  at  every  other  social  occasion  which  Southward  had  attended  in 
New  York,  there  were  an  astonishing  number  of  pretty  women, 
charmingly  dressed  and  full  of  interesting  conversation ;  an  equal 
number  of  men,  not  so  carefully  dressed  perhaps  but  with  equal 
powers  for  social  entertainment.  As  usual  too,  there  was  a 
celebrity  or  two.  Here  as  elsewhere,  their  rallying  of  Dwight  took 
the  form  of  reproaches  for  non-attendance  at  this  party  or  that. 
Dwight  met  them  all  with  his  customary  good  nature,  his  normal 
slangy,  witty  volubility.  They  did  not  stay  long  however. 


312  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"I  just  wanted  you  to  see  the  three  types,"  he  explained  when 
they  came  out.  "  The  writer,  the  publisher,  and  the  go-between. 
It's  rery  typical  of  New  York." 

"  Is  Miss  Yates  a  typical  middleman  ?  "  Southward  asked. 

Dwight  laughed  enjoyingly.  "  Jane  is  scarcely  a  typical  any 
thing.  She  was  left  a  widow  with  a  little  girl  eight  years  ago. 
Most  women  I  think  would  have  depended  on  their  beauty  to  help 
them  out.  But  Jane's  a  good  business  woman — she  meets  you  man 
to  man  and  no  funny  business.  She's  awfully  handsome,  isn't 
she?" 

"  Stunning !  "  Southward  did  not  speak  for  a  while.  "  All  New 
York  women  seem  to  be  handsome,"  came  out  of  her  meditations 
after  a  while.  "  Aren't  they  the  most  attractive  women  you  ever 
saw?" 

"  Yes  and  no,"  Dwight  answered.  "  Of  course  looks  make  a  lot 
of  difference  here — and  clothes.  New  York  women  doll  up,  it 
seems  to  me,  more  than  any  women  I  ever  saw  except  the  Parisians. 
But  sometimes,  it's  the  clothes,  not  the  women  themselves.  Of 
course  though,  there  are  many  really  beautiful  women  here.  Jane's 
one.  Azile's  another.  Kathleen  Warren  is  another.  Edith  too, 
although  she's  not  exactly  to  my  taste.  I'll  probably  introduce 
you  to  twenty  real  beauties  before  your  visit  is  over.  But  it's  not 
New  York  alone  that's  breeding  them,  remember.  They're  pouring 
in  from  all  over  the  country.  They  come  to  go  on  the  stage  and 
into  the  movies,  to  study  art  and  music,  elocution,  and  God  knows 
what.  It's  the  same  in  London  and  Paris.  Nevertheless  you  do 
get  tired  of  the  composite  type.  Well,  I've  told  you  times  enough 
how  pretty  and  fresh  the  Shayneford  girls  looked  to  me  when  I 
first  got  there." 

Southward  was  preoccupied  during  dinner,  which  they  ate  in 
a  Broadway  cafe,  full  of  coloured  lights,  some  of  which  shot 
through  a  huge  fountain  that  filled  one  corner.  Once,  she  said, 
"  I  didn't  expect  a  publisher  to  be  like  that  either,"  as  though 
the  day  had  brought  more  than  one  surprise. 

"  Wendell's  a  great  old  boy.  I'm  strong  for  him,"  was  Dwight's 
comment  on  this.  And  to  her  next  remark,  "  I  can't  tell  you  what 
a  respect  I  have  for  a  woman  so  beautiful  as  Miss  Yates  who 
builds  up  a  business  like  that,"  "Yes,  you're  right.  You'll  see 
a  lot  of  that  here." 

He  did  not  appear  to  notice  her  preoccupation.  He  kept 
up  a  flowing  commentary  on  the  people  in  the  cafe,  some  of 
whom  he  recognised.  He  invited  her  comment.  Gradually  he 
drew  her  to  her  highest  point  of  sparkling  impudence.  "  Gee, 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  313 

Southward,  you  have  a  fresh  point  of  view,"  he  remarked 
once. 

"  Do  you  dine  out  every  night  ? "  Southward  questioned,  ig 
noring  the  compliment. 

"  Every  night,"  Dwight  answered.  "  Often  of  course  with  John 
or  Morena.  Sometimes  somebody  that  my  work  compels  me  to 
feast  and  banquet.  But  more  often  it's  a  girl.  I  do  like  a  girl  for 
dinner." 

Southward's  preoccupation  returned  momentarily.  But  the  mad 
after-dinner  round  which  with  the  remark,  "Now  we're  going  to 
have  a  good  time,"  Dwight  immediately  whirled  her,  soon  broke 
it  up.  They  stopped  first  in  an  uptown  cafe  and  danced  for  an 
hour.  Then  they  went  to  a  downtown  cafe  and  danced  for  two 
hours.  Everywhere  Dwight  ran  into  acquaintances.  Everywhere 
he  was  reproached  for  non-attendance  at  this  party  or  that,  urged 
to  attend  new  ones,  bespoken  for  dinners  or  week-end  excursions. 
Dwight  poured  out  voluble  explanations  for  his  truancy;  accepted 
fresh  invitations  on  all  sides.  Towards  midnight,  they  drifted 
down  to  Washington  Square,  walked  laughing  and  talking  through 
the  Park. 

"  Perhaps  we'd  better  be  starting  towards  home,"  Southward  said 
finally. 

"  Not  yet,"  Dwight  pleaded.  And  then  suddenly  as  though 
struck  with  a  new  idea,  he  stepped  into  the  gutter  and  collected 
a  handful  of  pebbles.  Moving  out  into  the  middle  of  the  street, 
he  began  to  bombard  a  second-story  window  on  the  south  side. 
Presently  the  sash  went  up;  the  curtains  parted,  and  there  ap 
peared  over  the  sill  a  little  white  face  diminished  to  a  mere  wafer 
by  great  falling  clusters  of  golden  curls;  a  little  white  hand 
holding  a  kimono  together  over  slim  child-like  shoulders. 

"  Get  up  and  dress,  Cynthia,"  Dwight  coaxed.  "  I'll  take  you 
over  to  the  Balzac  and  buy  you  a  drink.  Besides,  there's  a  nice 
girl  down  here  that  I  want  you  to  know." 

"  Dwight  Cameron,"  Cynthia  answered  in  a  piercing  stage- 
whisper,  "  I  could  certainly  kill  you  at  this  moment.  I've  planned 
for  three  days  to  get  the  big  sleep  to-night  and  here  you  come 
along  and  ruin  it.  However  for  the  nice  girl's  sake,  I'll  forgive 
you.  I'll  be  down  in  a  jiff." 

"  Cynthia  is  a  model,"  Dwight  answered  Southward's  inquiring 
look,  "  and  a  true  Peruvian.  I  think  you'll  like  her.  Let's  sit 
down  on  the  doorstep.  It  won't  take  her  long." 

D wight's  prophecy  was  justified.  In  a  surprisingly  brief  interval 
the  door  back  of  them  opened.  There  stood  on  the  threshold  a 


314  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

little  slim,  white-faced  girl,  dressed  all  in  white;  white  corduroy- 
suit,  white  tam-o'-shanter  and,  in  spite  of  the  wintry  cold,  white 
silk  stockings  and  low  white  shoes.  The  only  colour  in  all  this 
was  the  faint  gold  of  her  short  hair  which  flew  from  under 
the  tam-o'-shanter  in  great  streaming  masses  as  of  wiry  light  and 
the  big  eyes  whose  quick  glances  were  like  violet  arrows. 

"  I  had  to  put  on  a  summer  suit,  because  I  couldn't  find  my 
winter  one,"  she  explained  irascibly,  shaking  hands  with  South 
ward  without  waiting  for  Dwight's  introduction  and  ignoring  it 
when  it  came.  "  Of  course  I'm  the  most  heedless  person  in  the 
world.  I  know  that  as  well  as  anybody.  But  I  really  can't  see 
where  a  big  thick  suit  that  I've  been  wearing  all  day  could  have 
disappeared  to  while  I  was  sleeping." 

Southward  laughed.  "  I  can  understand  your  state  of  mind  per 
fectly,"  she  admitted.  "  I'm  not  a  very  careful  person  myself." 
Abstraction  vanished  completely.  But  in  the  surreptitious  scru 
tiny  to  which,  as  in  the  case  of  all  the  young  and  beautiful  of  her 
own  sex,  she  immediately  subjected  Cynthia,  there  was  an  element 
of  sympathetic  understanding. 

They  crossed  the  Square  to  a  side  street  and  entered  the  Balzac, 
a  famous  French  hotel  of  the  neighbourhood.  The  cabaret  was 
crowded  with  tiny  tables,  set  as  close  together  as  possible.  A  few 
people  were  eating  and  all  were  drinking.  Chess,  dominoes,  cards, 
cribbage — strange  foreign  games  of  various  sorts — were  going  on 
at  many  tables,  letter-writing  at  a  few.  Their  advent  was  greeted 
with  applause  from  two  directions.  Dwight  waved  a  general  greet 
ing  to  his  friends  and  established  the  two  girls  at  a  table  on  the 
side.  But  before  she  sat  down,  Cynthia  went  about  from  group  to 
group,  and  explained  in  careful  detail  how  she  happened  to  be 
wearing  a  summer  suit. 

"  She  never  is  dressed  like  anybody  else,"  Dwight  was  in  the 
meantime  humorously  explaining  to  Southward,  "  although  she 
always  seems  to  think  she  would  be,  if  it  weren't  for  some  unfore 
seen  accident.  She's  an  original  and  a  clever  little  party  alto 
gether.  Great  fun  always."  He  proceeded  to  relate  some  of  the 
most  purple  incidents  in  Cynthia's  irresponsible  career. 

The  subject  of  this  biography  returned  in  time  to  their  table. 
But  she  left  it  at  intervals  to  join  other  parties  or  to  invite  them 
to  join  her.  Their  table  was  constantly  growing  and  diminishing 
in  size  as  other  tables  were  added  to  it  or  snatched  away.  Cynthia 
rapidly  became  the  social  centre  of  the  room.  Everybody  who 
entered  seemed  to  see  her  first;  everybody  who  went  out  said 
good-bye  to  her  last.  She  was  one  of  those  people  who  fill  the 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  315 

stage  whatever  they  do,  or  wherever  they  go.  The  cafe  began  to 
empty.  Cynthia  departed  abruptly  at  the  end  of  an  hour  with 
a  group  who  were  going  in  her  direction. 

"  I  think  I'm  going  to  bed  now,"  she  said,  "  but  I  never  can  tell." 

At  the  door  she  paused.  "  Oh,  Dwight,"  she  called,  "  there's  a 
pair  of  your  pyjamas  over  at  my  place.  I  wish  you'd  come  and  get 
them  some  time." 

Dwight  joined  in  the  scream  of  laughter  that  this  evoked. 

"  She  brought  them  home  from  a  camping  party  where  I  left 
them.  She  was  visiting  there  the  same  time  I  was,"  he  explained 
to  Southward.  "Isn't  she  an  imp?  It's  just  as  likely  she's  been 
hatching  that  up  the  whole  evening.  Still  she's  quite  as  spontane 
ous  as  she  is  premeditated.  That's  why  she's  such  a  wonder." 

"Did  you  have  a  good  time,  Southward?"  Hester  called  from 
her  room  when  Southward  got  in  that  night. 

"  Wonderful !  "  Southward  answered.  She  came  into  Hester's 
room  and  sitting  on  the  bed  gave  her  a  detailed  account  of  the 
night's  adventures.  But  she  was  visibly  preoccupied.  An  unex 
pressed  undercurrent  of  comment  ran  briskly  through  her  mind 
parallel  with  her  narrative.  Hester  fell  rapidly  back  to  sleep  again 
when  Southward  finished.  But  Southward  herself  sat  for  a  long 
time  at  her  window,  her  eyes  fixed  on  the  stars.  When  finally  she 
went  to  bed,  it  was  on  a  sudden  impulse,  as  though,  after  a  long 
and  careful  consideration  of  many  things,  she  had  come  to  a  clear 
conclusion. 


CHAPTER  XIII 

IN  the  morning  when  Southward  called  Morena  on  the  telepnone, 
she  lingered  to  talk  a  little. 

"  Oh,  by  the  way,"  she  concluded  with  the  air  of  one  who  sud 
denly  remembers  something,  "  you  know  that  exhibition  of  pictures 
you  spoke  of  a  few  days  ago?  I  find  I  can  go  to-day  after  all. 

Another  engagement  has  been  called  off Thanks Yes, 

that's  all  right — yes — four  o'clock  then." 

Immediately  afterwards  she  called  another  number. 

"  Is  this  Mr.  Home  ?  Oh,  good  morning.  You  don't  remember 
me,  I'm  sure.  But  I  remember  you  perfectly.  Do  you  recall 
a  girl  who  met  you  at  the  Quatre-Arts'  costume-party — she  wore 
a  plain  scarlet  domino?  You  wanted  to  know  her  name  and 
address.  And  she  gave  you  one,  I've  forgotten  which.  Oh,  I  see 
you  do  remember.  Oh — I'm  sure  you're  exceedingly  kind.  Thank 
you.  Yes.  Yes.  Yes.  Yes.  Oh,  I'd  like  that  awfully.  After 
the  theatre?  Oh,  yes,  I  see.  That  makes  it  only  the  more  inter 
esting.  Oh,  yes,  I'll  remember.  Saturday  night  then.  Good-bye." 

She  called  a  third  number. 

"  I  want  Mr.  Ely.  Yes.  Is  this  Mr.  Ely.  No,  Mr.  George  Ely. 
Thank  you.  Oh,  good  morning,  Mr.  Ely.  I'm  that  girl  you  met 
at  the  Quatre-Arts'  ball — do  you  remember — in  a  scarlet  domino — 
and  you  tried  very  hard  to  get  me  to  give  you  my  name  and 
address  and  I  did  give  you  one  of  them,  though  I've  forgotten 

which  one.  Well,  here  I  am Oh,  I  see — well,  my  name  is 

Southward  Drake.  Oh,  that's  awfully  kind  of  you.  I'd  enjoy  it 
enormously.  Thanks,  yes.  No.  Yes,  oh,  yes.  Thank  you.  All 
right,  Thursday  night  about  ten.  Good-bye." 

She  did  not  see  Dwight  again  for  the  rest  of  the  week,  although 
he  called  her  once  a  day  and  sometimes  twice  on  the  telephone. 
He  was,  he  explained,  exceedingly  busy  on  the  novel.  "  Jane  sort 
of  jacked  me  up  the  other  day,  and  I'm  working  hard.  Azile  is 
helping  me  every  morning.  You  see  I  want  to  get  the  first  book 
finished  before  I  read  it  to  Jane." 

It  happened  that  the  next  time  she  met  Dwight  was  at  the  party 
to  which  George  Ely  took  her.  Southward  had  not,  of  course, 

816 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  317 

met  the  people  who  gare  the  "party;  nor  for  that  matter  had  Ely 
more  than  once.  They  were  a  young  married  pair,  actors.  They 
had  just  received  the  notice  that  the  building  in  which  they  lived 
was  to  be  torn  down  at  the  beginning  of  the  month.  They  had 
moved  out  their  Lares,  leaving  the  rooms  quite  empty,  for  dancing. 
Delicatessen  food,  drinks  of  all  descriptions  were  spread  out  on 
newspapers,  oh  window-sills  and  radiator-tops.  They  ate  from 
paper  plates  and  drank  from  tin  cups.  Those  who  wished  to  sit 
down  between  dances  sat  on  newspapers  on  the  floor.  It  was  of 
course  in  these  circumstances  an  unusually  successful  and  a  wildly 
hilarious  party.  And  when  at  midnight  a  trio  of  new  guests  pre 
sented  themselves  in  shirts,  overalls,  and  soft  felt  hats,  which  they 
explained  they  had  hired  from  some  labourers  working  on  the 
street,  and  carrying  the  picks  and  dinner-pails  that  went  with 
them,  they  were  greeted  with  uproarious  applause.  Someone  sug 
gested  that,  as  the  house  was  coming  down  the  next  day,  they 
might  begin  the  work  of  destruction  at  once.  This  idea  was 
received  with  cheers.  The  joyous  work  began  at  once.  With 
picks,  they  attacked  the  walls  which  divided  the  two  rooms. 
Everybody  was  compelled  to  take  a  hand  in  this  fatiguing,  dirty, 
but  agreeable  task.  In  half  an  hour  there  was  a  man-size  hole 
cut  from  room  to  room ;  the  air  was  full  of  dust,  the  floor  covered 
with  debris.  After  a  general  washing  up — soapless  and  with  hand 
kerchiefs  performing  the  functions  of  towels — everybody  went  to 
a  nearby  all-night  Broadway  restaurant.  The  people  sitting  at 
the  tables  surveyed  the  mad  group  of  revellers,  headed  by  what 
purported  to  be  three  street-labourers,  with  interest  but  without 
surprise;  the  waiters  received  the  picks  and  dinner-pails  and 
carried  them  off  to  be  checked  without  a  change  of  expression. 

When  Southward  and  Ely  invaded  this  party,  Dwight  was 
dancing  with  Azile  alone  in  the  centre  of  the  room.  Dwight's 
glance,  falling  on  Southward,  lit  with  a  delighted  surprise  which 
died  as  it  shifted  to  Ely.  He  bowed  with  the  utmost  cordiality 
to  them  both,  however.  The  next  dance  found  him  at  South 
ward's  side.  He  managed  to  prolong  it  interminably  by  himself 
renewing  the  record  every  time  it  threatened  to  run  down.  Pres 
ently  united  protest  affected  a  change  in  music  and  he  released 
her  to  Ely. 

"  Ely's  a  good  fellow,  isn't  he  ? "  he  said  carelessly.  "  I  didn't 
know  you  knew  him  particularly." 

"  I  don't,"  Southward  answered  with  an  equal  carelessness. 
"  Yes,  I  like  him.  He's  been  very  kind  about  offering  to  take  me 
about." 


318  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Ely  engaged  the  next  three  dances  and  Southward  encouraged 
him  to  prolong  them  by  much  approval  of  the  music.  She  danced 
with  the  other  men  that  he  introduced  and  twice  again 
with  Dwight.  But  she  submitted  to  all  Ely's  attempts  to  monop 
olise  her.  She  walked  with  him  in  the  procession  that  marched 
a  block  to  the  restaurant  and  she  fell  in  with  his  suggestion  not 
to  separate  while  eating.  Dwight  and  Azile  sat  opposite  them  at 
the  long  table  which  the  waiters  immediately  made  from  three 
email  ones.  The  quartette  engaged  in  general  conversation,  which 
Ely  quite  frankly  broke  off  again  and  again  to  diminish  to  a 
tete-a-tete  with  Southward. 

He  was  a  newspaper-man;  full  of  narrative  and  lively  repartee. 
He  had  come  to  New  York  two  years  before,  from  Yale.  But  his 
college  atmosphere  still  hung  over  him  a  little;  in  his  metro 
politan  vocabulary  were  still  embedded  the  slang  exotics  of  the 
Yale  campus.  He  was  big,  blond,  and  rather  ugly.  But  his  eye 
was  clear,  his  smile  winning;  he  kept  a  look  of  athletic  freshness. 

Southward  left  before  Azile.  "  By  the  way,"  Dwight  said  in  a 
low  voice  as  he  shook  hands  with  her  in  parting,  "  I'm  going  to 
telephone  you  sometime  to-morrow.  I  think  it's  about  time  we 
went  on  another  spree." 

"  All  right,"  Southward  assented  indifferently. 

When  as  usual  she  called  Morena  up  the  next  morning,  to  her 
surprise,  Dwight  answered  her  gay,  "  Time  to  get  up,  Morena ! " 
with  an  abrupt: 

"  This  isn't  Morena.  It's  me.  Morena's  struggling  with  a  tele 
gram  at  the  door." 

"  Oh,  good  morning."  Southward's  composure  was  unshaken. 
"  How  surprising  to  hear  your  voice.  Well,  tell  Mr.  O'Reilly  that 
I  waked  him  as  usual.  Good " 

"  Say !  Wait  a  moment !  "  Dwight  remonstrated.  "  What's  your 
rush?  I  want  to  talk  with  you.  I  want  to  ask  you  something. 
Can  you  go  out  to  dinner  with  me  to-night  ?  " 

"  I  can,"  Southward  said  slowly,  "  if  you  can  get  me  home  by 
eleven  o'clock.  I  have  an  engagement  at  half-past  eleven." 

"  Is  it  a  long  one  ?  " 

"  Till  after  two,  I  fancy." 

"  Can  I  deliver  you  at  your  party?  " 

"  I'm  afraid  not.  There's  a  man  coming  to  the  apartment  for 
me." 

"  All  right.  Curse  him.  However,  I'll  tire  you  out  so  you 
won't  have  any  fun  with  him." 

"  I  challenge  you  to  do  that." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  319 

"  I  accept."  Dwight  paused.  "  Don't  ring  off !  "  he  warned  her. 
"  I  haven't  finished  yet.  It  seems  as  though  I  hadn't  seen  you  for 
a  dog's  age.  But  I've  been  very  busy  myself — writing  every 
morning  on  the  novel  and  all  day  yesterday.  I  feel  as  if  I'd 
imposed  on  Azile,  but  she's  been  awfully  good  about  helping  me." 

There  was  a  new  note  in  Dwight's  arrogant  voice,  as  though 
apology  tried  to  veil  itself  in  explanation. 

"  Well,"  Southward  said,  "  I  must  get  back  to  my  coffee.  Oh, 
by  the  way,  congratulate  Mr.  O'Keilly  for  me.  Tell  him,  please, 
that  I  call  his  attention  to  the  fact  that  this  is  the  first  time  in 
three  weeks  that  I've  found  him  awake  when  I  called  him  up." 

She  went  to  dinner  with  Dwight,  and  although  in  an  exaggerated 
spirit  of  burlesque  entreaty  he  tried  to  make  her  cut  out  the  other 
engagement,  she  steadfastly  refused  to  do  it.  She  made  no  con 
fidence  as  to  its  nature,  but  when  Dwight  asked  point-blank  she 
said  that  Harold  Home  had  asked  her  to  go  to  a  private  view  of 
a  moving  picture  which  starred  a  Broadway  favourite.  This  view 
was  to  be  given  after  midnight  in  order  that  the  star  might  him 
self  see  it. 

"  You'll  enjoy  that,"  Dwight  prophesied,  "  there'll  be  some  enter 
taining  people  there." 

Southward  admitted  that  she  expected  this.  And  in  point  of 
fact,  it  was  more  interesting  even  than  she  anticipated.  Harold 
Home  was,  he  told  her,  a  Native  Son  of  the  Golden  West,  Sutter 
Parlour  Number  73.  He  was  big  and  handsome,  with  the  face  of 
a  Greek  god,  a  little  too  full  as  to  feature  and  a  little  too  high  as 
to  colouring.  He  had  the  Californian's  wit  and  resourcefulness. 
He  affected  the  pose  of  the  raw  Westerner  in  New  York  for  the 
first  time;  he  referred  to  metropolitan  conditions  in  the  terms  of  a 
mining  camp.  He  saw  to  it  that  Southward  met  the  entire  party 
in  the  little  velvet-hung  room  in  which  the  pictures  were  shown. 
Her  own  audacity  of  spirit  re-enforced  his  social  adroitness;  there 
was  not  a  dull  moment  all  the  evening  long. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

SOUTHWARD'S  interests  were  not  all  personal;  she  developed 
others  that  were  more  general.  She  kept  her  promise  to  Angela 
Ade  in  regard  to  suffrage  work.  Occasionally  she  accompanied  that 
determined  young  woman  on  a  speaking  expedition.  Carrying 
a  soap-box,  Angela  stopped  on  these  occasions  first  at  one 
corner,  then  at  another,  and  delivered  her  talk.  "  You  stand  in 
front  of  me,  Miss  Drake,"  were  her  brisk  commands,  "  and  look 
as  much  like  an  interested  audience  as  you  can.  The  hardest  part 
of  it  all  is  to  start  off  haranguing  empty  space."  Southward  did 
not  serve  as  audience  long.  First  one  listener  joined  her;  then 
another.  They  came  by  twos  and  threes.  Once  within  earshot, 
Angela  held  them  easily  enough;  she  was  quick,  succinct,  logical, 
and  entertaining.  Regularly  two  afternoons  a  week,  Southward 
sold  copies  of  The  Equal  Franchise  011  the  street.  In  this 
she  was  peculiarly  successsful  and  she  made  no  effort  to  conceal 
her  enjoyment  of  the  process.  The  touch-and-go  contact  with 
the  Fourteenth  Street  crowds  brought  out  all  her  facility  for 
repartee.  Many  men  stopped  to  buy  of  her.  With  some,  motives 
were  obviously  mixed;  they  were  inclined  to  linger  and  talk.  But 
Southward  gave  them  short  shrift.  Even  more  than  this  suffrage 
work,  she  enjoyed  a  brief  picketing  experience  in  an  East  Side 
strike.  Four  times  a  day,  once  early  in  the  morning,  twice  at 
noon,  and  late  in  the  afternoon,  she  reported  for  duty  at  the 
Strike  Hall.  She  accompanied  bands  of  pickets  to  the  shops.  She 
proved  so  self-controlled,  resourceful,  and  fearless  that  once  she 
was  sent  to  help  "pull"  a  shop.  She  came  home  from  these 
various  experiences  bursting  with  narrative.  Hester  listened  with 
interest.  But  Southward  had  no  argument  cogent  enough  to  get 
her  into  these  stirring  activities. 

Southward's  intimacy  with  Mrs.  Morrow  grew.  Soon  after  their 
arrival,  Azile  invited  both  Hester  and  Southward  to  a  dinner  given 
at  her  house.  Twenty  guests  sat  down  to  table.  With  the  excep 
tion  of  their  hostess,  of  Dwight  and  Morena,  the  country-girls 
were  the  only  people  present  not  celebrities.  Southward  was  placed 
between  a  famous  playwright  and  a  famous  actor,  Hester  between 

320 


THE  LADY  OP  KINGDOMS  321 

a  famous  painter  and  a  famous  novelist.  For  the  decoration  of 
the  main  room  in  the  House-Stable,  Azile  had  apparently  robbed 
the  Shop-Stable  of  its  greatest  treasures.  Old  French  furniture  in 
a  delicately-carved  white  wood,  upholstered  in  a  faded,  silvery, 
grey-blue,  seemed  to  lead  the  eye  as  through  a  silvery,  grey-blue 
vista  to  the  single  picture — a  Nattier,  grey  and  blue  and  silvery 
too.  All  the  glass  and  all  the  silver  on  the  bared  old-oak  table 
was  old.  Not  a  piece  of  china  appeared  from  the  beginning  of  the 
dinner  to  the  end;  nothing  but  old  English  pewter.  About  the 
room  were  flowers  whose  futuristic  colours  matched  the  platters  of 
fruit  on  the  table;  matched  the  dinner-cards  that  found  places  for 
the  guests;  matched  the  absurd  painted  wooden  toys  that  enter 
tained  them  between  courses.  The  conversation  was  surprisingly 
nonsensical,  considering,  Hester  afterwards  observed,  the  massed 
ability  there,  but  it  was  entertaining  and  occasionally  broke  into  an 
affording  seriousness.  Afterwards  scores  of  people  arrived  and 
they  danced  all  night. 

This  was  the  beginning  of  Mrs.  Morrow's  entertaining.  Sub 
sequently,  Hester  dropped  out  of  the  group  as  her  social  unfitness 
for  it  more  clearly  manifested  itself.  But  Southward  never  refused 
an  invitation. 

Azile  was  the  pivot  of  a  peculiarly  picturesque  crowd  of  people. 
Idle,  attractive,  living  from  hand  to  mouth,  subsisting  in  a  way 
possible  only  to  adventure-loving  youth  without  many  of  the 
necessities  of  life  but  with  most  of  the  luxuries,  it  included  gifted 
young  painters  who  had  not  arrived,  handsome  young  stage-people 
perennially  out  of  a  job,  talented  young  poets  and  fiction-writers 
who  had  found  neither  themselves  nor  a  publisher;  illustrators, 
newspaper-men,  movie-actors,  students  of  the  arts;  and  the  usual 
fringe  of  ne'er-do-weel,  happy-go-lucky  nondescripts  all  personality 
and  problematical  ability  which  such  a  crowd  inevitably  attracts. 
Constantly  shifting  in  make-up,  it  remained  constantly  inter 
esting.  Azile's  place  was  the  rallying-spot  for  these  agreeable 
drifters.  They  appeared  there  at  any  instant  of  the  day  or  night; 
stayed  for  hours  or  days.  Azile's  amused  tolerance  of  their 
vagaries  was  only  equalled  by  Mrs.  Boardman's  cynical  indiffer 
ence  to  them.  There  was  of  course  much  haphazard,  helter-skelter 
entertaining  going  on  all  the  time  in  the  little  stable  which  the 
two  women  inhabited.  And  sometimes  this  crystallised  into  a  tea 
or  a  dinner-party  which,  at  its  beginning  at  least,  was  characterised 
by  a  more  formal  elegance. 

Temperamental,  pleasure-loving,  restless,  of  an  extraordinary 
bodily  activity,  a  creature  of  the  night,  Azile  could  not  be  alone. 


322  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

But  with  her,  the  impulse  to  hospitality  took  unexpected  forms; 
came  at  unexpected  times.  Sometimes  the  early  morning — or  at 
least  what  was  early  morning  for  New  York — would  find  her  at 
the  country-girls'  door  ready  to  bear  them  off  to  some  hastily- 
improvised  jaunt.  Sometimes  late  in  the  evening  the  telephone 
would  bring  her  staccato  exigent  command  to  a  hastily-improvised 
party.  Once,  Southward  and  Hester  were  summoned  from  their 
rery  beds  to  find  at  her  place,  equally  sleepy-eyed,  all  the  members 
of  the  Shayneford  camp-group,  plus  new  and  interesting  aliens. 
The  country-girls  never  said  no  to  these  invitations. 

As  the  winter  wore  on,  costume-party  succeeded  costume-party. 
Some  of  them  occurred  in  the  House-Stable,  but  the  majority  of 
them  were  huge  public  dances,  given  by  this  crowd  of  artists  or 
that,  the  socialists,  the  anarchists,  the  feminists,  etc.,  ad  infinitum. 
These  occasions  were  always  preceded  by  a  dinner-party  of  a  spe 
cially  selected  crowd  with  Azile.  At  nine — or  thereabouts — they 
ate ;  at  twelve — or  thereabouts — they  appeared  at  the  dance.  Every 
body  wore  fresh  costumes  to  each  of  these  affairs ;  indeed  the  invi 
tations  stipulated  epochs  or  styles  or  even  colours.  Their  group 
planned  its  clothes  with  an  eye  to  harmonising  or  contrasting 
effects.  Once  they  went  as  a  band  of  circus-performers;  another 
time  as  gipsies;  again  as  magazine-cover  people;  as  vaudevillists ; 
futurists;  once  in  yellow  and  red.  An  Arabian  Nights'  fete 
brought  out  all  their  originality  in  rich  colour;  a  Greek  wine- 
festival  all  their  ingenuity  in  graceful  drapery.  Hester  never  at 
tended  these  affairs  but  Southward  went  to  them  all.  She  was 
often  put  to  it  to  devise  appropriate  costumes;  for  her  talents  did 
not  lie  in  that  direction.  But  with  the  help  of  the  suggestions 
given  her  by  the  painters  in  their  crowd  and  the  assistance  of 
Hester's  slight  dressmaking  gift,  she  was  always  a  congruous  and 
a  startling  figure,  often  a  beautiful  one.  Azile  of  course  wore 
the  most  daring  of  invented  costume  effects.  She  went  to  any  end 
to  achieve  results — eyen  to  staining  her  whole  body  brown,  when 
at  the  Egyptian  masque,  she  went  bare-armed  and  bare-legged  as 
a  syce. 

Occasionally  Azile,  Southward,  Dwight,  and  Morena  formed  par 
ties  by  themselves.  But  though  they  played  assiduously  at  the 
game  of  enjoyment,  as  New  York  plays  it,  dinners,  theatres,  late 
suppers  and  later  dancing,  these  parties  carres  were  never  suc 
cessful.  Azile  alone  seemed  to  enjoy  them  completely.  Perhaps 
that  was  because  they  were  invariably  run  to  suit  her.  If  before 
she  arrived  she  had  not  planned  them,  she  began  to  do  so  as  soon 
as  the  four  were  assembled.  The  men  of  course  always  fell 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  323 

in  with  her  suggestions  and  Southward  never  opposed  them.  Al 
though  Azile  managed,  with  an  appearance  of  impartiality,  to  talk 
at  the  theatres  and  to  dance  afterwards  at  the  cafes  first  with 
Dwight  and  then  with  Morena,  it  was  always  Dwight  who  was 
scheduled  to  call  for  her  and  to  take  her  home.  Dwight  invariably 
grew  more  and  more  silent  as  the  evening  passed;  sometimes  his 
mood  deepened  until  it  approximated  moroseness.  Southward 
maintained  that  impassivity  which,  without  the  break  of  a  single 
smile,  she  could  sustain  for  hours.  Next  to  Azile,  Morena  seemed 
to  extract  the  most  enjoyment  from  the  situation.  A  sardonic 
smile  always  hovered  back  of  the  jetty  moustache.  And  his  spirits 
took  a  definite  leap  upwards  when  the  two  couples  parted  and  he 
and  Southward  started  on  the  tete-a-tete  walk  which  always  con 
cluded  the  evening. 

That  first  engagement  with  George  Ely  had  led  to  another,  and 
that  in  turn  had  led  to  others.  Harold  Home's  hospitality  had 
also  sent  out  roots  and  rootlets.  Southward  continued  to  accept 
Morena's  invitations.  It  began  to  happen  more  and  more  often 
that  when  Dwight  tried  to  make  an  engagement  with  her,  she  was 
already  booked.  The  result  was  that  Dwight  began  to  demand 
more  and  more  of  her  time.  He  began  occasionally  to  take  her 
on  his  assignments.  As  the  weeks  went  by — his  assignments  being 
rather  special  in  character — this  happened  often.  It  was  quite 
apparent  that  he  found  Southward  entertaining.  But  more  than 
this,  her  comments  on  New  York  life  seemed  to  stimulate  his 
imagination,  especially  ir  regard  to  his  newspaper-work.  He 
found  her  notably  help  *  ul  in  the  "  Sunday  stuff  "  by  means  of 
which  he  added  regulr  '7  to  his  income.  He  had  long  ago  begun 
his  series,  "  What  th-  Country-Girl  Saw."  His  invitations  came 
often  with  very  littL  warning;  as  his  assignment  developed  into 
one  on  which,  with  ropriety,  he  could  take  a  woman.  On  these 
occasions,  the  telep.  me  would  ring  towards  noon  and  his  voice, 
curt,  business-like,  v\ould  say,  "Are  you  free  to-day?  If  so,  I  can 
take  you  on  a  story !  '' 

"Yes,"  Southward  answered  immediately. 

"All  right.    Meet  i  e 

It  was  always  a  di;lorent  leeting-place,  and  there  would  follow 
his  quick  concise  dire^  tions.  Southward  frankly  admitted  that  she 
enjoyed  these  events  n  ore  thi.  :i  anything  that  had  happened  to  her 
in  New  York.  Much  of  Dw^'ht's  work  was  light.  He  had  dis 
covered  a  character  on  the  East  Side  whose  dialectic  peculiarity 
was  peculiarly  humorous.  Many  of  his  stories  took  the  form  of 
interviews  with  this  mfive,  inarticulate  and  bewhiskered  alien. 


324  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

To  him  Dwight  pinned  every  humorous  tale  of  the  Ghetto  which 
came  to  his  notice.  But  often  his  assignment  was  more  serious. 
Together  they  investigated  a  haunted  house  which  was  bringing 
terror  into  a  correct  upper  West  Side  neighbourhood;  traced  the 
wanderings  within  the  limits  of  Manhattan  of  a  cow  named 
Isabel,  who  suddenly  deserted  bed  and  board  and  refused  to  return 
to  domesticity  until  her  calf  arrived;  a  gang  of  little-boy  burglars 
who  dumped  their  booty  into  a  cave  on  the  outskirts  of  the 
borough;  a  pair  of  spiritualist  mediums  who  had  established  a  new 
relation  with  the  other  world  by  a  process  discovered  by  them  in 
Afghanistan.  Once  for  three  days  in  succession  it  was  a  mysteri 
ous  murder  in  the  Bronx.  Southward  inspected  the  house  where 
the  girl  lived,  the  shop  where  she  worked ;  traversed  the  road  which 
she  had  followed  four  times  a  day,  for  two  years,  examined  the 
spot  in  the  bushes  where  her  dead  body  was  found.  This  involved, 
for  Southward,  long  lonely  periods  of  waiting  while  Dwight  was 
getting  news  in  the  police-station,  but  she  never  complained. 
In  fact,  she  did  a  little  amateur  detective  work  on  her  own  account. 
As  much  as  she  could,  she  talked  with  people  in  the  neighbourhood 
about  the  case.  Dwight  listened  with  interest  to  her  comments  on 
all  these  things. 

"  I  like  your  brain,  Southward,"  he  said  often,  or  "  I  like  the 
kind  of  thinking  you  do,"  or  "  It's  curious  how  much  alike  our 
minds  work  1  " 

Often  these  expeditions  ended  in  quick  luncheons  in  whatever 
neighbourhood  they  happened  to  find  themselves;  little  restaurants, 
often  of  the  hole-in-the-wall  type.  Dwight  professed  to  hate  cheap 
places,  but  Southward  enjoyed  them  more  than  the  expensive  ones. 
Oftener,  however,  Dwight  would  have  to  leave  her  at  once  to  return 
to  the  office  and  write  the  story.  At  first  he  showed  her,  in  print, 
the  influence  here  and  there  of  her  definite  opinions  and  her  con 
crete  comments ;  but  gradually  he  became  unconscious  of  her  influ 
ence.  Increasingly,  however,  his  newspaper-work  was  the  result  of 
a  collaboration. 

After  a  while  he  read  to  her  what  he  had  written  of  the  new 
East  Side  novel.  As  in  the  case  of  the  uncompleted  Cape  Cod 
novel,  Southward's  comments  were  few,  brief,  and  evasive.  Ap 
parently  this  piqued  Dwight.  He  was  always  trying  to  draw  her 
to  a  fuller  criticism.  Finally  he  succeeded  and  Southward  deliv 
ered  what  for  her  amounted  to  a  harangue. 

"  I  feel  the  same  way  about  this  novel  that  I  did  about  the  one 
you  began  last  summer  in  Shayneford.  It's  awfully  well-written; 
gay,  spirited,  witty,  full  of  colour — it's  entertaining.  But  some- 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  325 

how  it  lacks  something — perhaps  it's  what  literary  critics  call 
'  atmosphere.'  But  I  really  think  it  goes  deeper  than  that.  It's 
not  characterised.  It's  awfully  hard  for  me  to  talk  about  it  without 
telling  you  all  the  truth.  The  people  in  the  Cape  Cod  novel 
weren't  Cape  Cod  people  at  all.  If  it  had  been  written  from  the 
point  of  view  of  a  stranger,  perhaps  that  would  have  been  all  right. 
But  you  made  your  hero  a  man  who  was  born  on  the  Cape  and  had 
never  left  it  and  you  let  him  tell  part  of  the  story  in  the  first 
person."  She  paused  and  smiled.  "  I  don't  use  long  words  often 
but  I'm  going  to  use  one  now;  so  be  prepared  for  the  shock.  I 
should  say  that  the  trouble  with  that  novel  is  that  it  isn't  homo 
geneous.  And  I  feel  the  same  way  somehow  about  this  East  Side 
one.  It  is  as  entertaining  as  the  dickens  but  I  have  a  feeling  that 
you  don't  really  know  what  you're  talking  about." 

"  Damn  you !  "  Dwight  said  with  mingled  chagrin  and  amuse 
ment.  "  Of  course  you're  right.  But  I  do  want  to  go  on  with  it," 
he  continued  in  a  tone  that  seemed  to  plead  with  her  for  encour 
agement.  "  Why,  just  think,"  and  now  that  pleading  carried  an 
undercurrent  of  shame,  "  I've  got  two  other  unfinished  novels 
besides  these  two.  There's  one  about  the  Tenderloin  and  another 
that's  a  kind  of  international  affair — begins  in  the  West — jumps 
to  Tangiers — and  then  to  Paris."  He  paused  and  glanced  with  a 
sideways  mischief  at  his  companion.  "  I'm  going  to  make  you 
read  them  all  some  day." 

"  I  feel  that  coming,"  Southward  announced  in  a  resigned  tone. 

"  Damn  you  again !  "  Dwight  exclaimed.  "  Well,  anyway,  I'm  a 
good  reporter." 

"You  are  that,"  Southward  said  with  conviction,  "you're  a 
«racker-jack.  I  love  your  stories.  I  look  for  them  the  first  thing 
every  morning  and  I  can  always  tell  your  style  even  when  I  don't 
know  what  your  assignment  was.  I  think  you  do  the  best  writing 
in  the  New  York  papers — so  simple  and  clear  and  vigorous — and 
yet  with  such  a  sense  of  humour." 

"  Thanks !  "  Dwight  drawled,  "  I'm  eating  up  dose  woids." 

His  spirits,  which  had  visibly  sunk  during  this  colloquy,  now 
seemed  to  bound  until  they  struck  the  zenith  of  his  elastic  powers 
of  enjoyment. 


CHAPTER  XV 

MUCH  as  Dwight  enjoyed  his  assignments,  especially  after  he 
began  to  share  them  with  Southward,  he  looked  upon  them  of 
course  as  work.  But  he  threw  himself  into  his  play.  It  was 
apparent  soon  that  though  one  side  of  him  frankly  enjoyed  a  wildly 
hilarious  party,  there  was  another  side  which  quite  as  frankly 
enjoyed  the  correct  side  of  metropolitan  existence.  He  liked  to  get 
into  evening  clothes;  call  for  Southward  in  a  taxi  to  bear  her,  also 
in  evening  clothes,  to  dinner  at  Sherry's  or  Delmonico's.  After 
wards  they  went  to  the  theatre  or  to  the  opera,  although  neither 
of  them  cared  particularly  for  music.  He  liked — that  was  amus 
ingly  apparent  also — to  escort  a  woman  whose  looks  and  appear 
ance  attracted  attention;  elicited  admiration.  Ultimately  this 
involved  Southward  in  the  purchase  of  two  new  evening  gowns. 
She  bought  the  materials,  after  an  examination  of  the  models  in 
the  Fifth  Avenue  shop  windows,  in  a  department-store  on  Broad 
way.  They  were  made  into  a  simplified  translation  of  those  models 
with  the  assistance  at  home  of  a  little  dressmaker  who  lived  in 
their  house.  They  earned  from  Edith,  a  "  Southward,  I  should 
think  you  had  bought  those  in  Paris !  "  and  from  Azile,  a  flutter 
of  the  eyelashes  and  an  ossification  of  her  whole  expression  before 
she  said,  "  But  they're  charming !  Where  did  you  find  them  ?  " 

"  Wear  the  orange  dress  to-night,"  was  Dwight's  masculine 
tribute,  or  with  equal  enthusiasm,  "  Put  on  that  yellow  thing  with 
the  lace." 

At  first  Dwight  made  a  point — and  always  he  said  it  was  to 
complete  her  education — to  introduce  her  singly  and  in  circles  to 
all  kinds  of  people.  He  seemed  to  take  a  special  delight  in  flash 
ing  her  from  place  to  place,  pulling  her  away  immediately  however 
if  the  occasion  threatened  to  be  dull  and,  before  she  could  catch 
her  breath,  darting  her  into  another  extraordinary  group.  He 
watched  always  and  with  a  sense  of  pride  for  the  reaction  which 
her  personality  immediately  produced.  Indeed  the  intrusion  of 
her  cold,  composed,  hard  self-assurance,  taken  with  her  brilliant 
vivid  beauty,  had  the  effect  of  a  hand-grenade  thrown  into  the 
midst  of  those  cynical  New  York  crowds.  His  women-friends  were 
apparently  legion  and  he  never  lost  an  opportunity  to  introduce 

326 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  327 

her  to  them.  Now  at  some  wild  studio-party  it  was  Eileen 
O'Hearn,  a  famous  movie-star,  a  vivid  pink-and-gold  blonde  of 
seventeen,  smothered  in  white  furs  and  wound  with  pearls. 
Again,  it  was  a  slip  of  a  creature  whom  he  stopped  on  the 
Avenue,  a  tiny  brunette  with  huge  half-moon  eyes  peering 
at  them  from  under  a  fur  cap  and  over  high  Tartar-shaped 
cheek-bones.  "  She's  the  Russian  diving-wonder,  Katia  Karhoff," 
Dwight  explained.  "  To  be  sure,  her  real  name's  Victoria 
Hawkins,  and  she  never  left  England  until  last  year.  But  isn't 
she  a  pippin  ? "  Again  it  would  be  a  tall  blond  thoroughbred 
creature,  clothed  slimly  in  coat-of-mail  of  black  leather  who 
stopped  her  automobile  to  invite  them  for  a  drive  through  the 
Park.  "  That's  Jo  Durland — the  Jo  Durland,"  Dwight  explained 
afterwards.  "  She's  showing  her  famous  Airedales  at  the  dog 
show  this  week.  She's  an  aviator  too — no  end  of  courage  and 
nerve."  Or  it  was  a  freckled  pink-cheeked  little  girl,  shy-eyed 
and  blushing,  whose  arm  he  caught  and  held  until  he  could  intro 
duce  Southward,  "  Maisie  MacDonald,  the  Scotch  poetess  who's 
been  making  such  a  hit  in  New  York  this  winter.  Isn't  she  a 
soncy  lassie  ?  "  And  so  on  and  on ;  competent  newspaper-women ; 
working  suffragettes ;  gay  society  butterflies. 

But  Dwight  was  no  carpet-knight.  He  had  quite  as  many  men 
as  women-friends,  perhaps  more.  He  did  not  seem  so  eager  to 
precipitate  meeting  in  their  case,  however.  Introductions  were 
unavoidable  of  course.  Newspaper-men  predominated  and  it  was 
easy  to  see  what  Dwight's  position  with  them  was;  one  of  those 
brilliant,  easily-successful  stars  of  the  newspaper  world  whom  his 
confreres  admired  and  envied.  They  liked  him  too.  But  every 
body  liked  Dwight. 

He  himself  liked  everybody.  And  he  enjoyed  life  frankly  and 
fully.  He  had  a  strong  physique,  enormous  vitality;  an  undying 
interest  in  people  and  things.  He  was  open-minded  and  open- 
hearted.  He  arose  every  morning  on  a  fresh  world.  He  lived 
every  day  as  though  it  was  his  first  conscious  day  of  maturity; 
enjoyed  each  experience  as  though  it  were  the  first  taste  of  life.  If 
he  were  inclined  to  drift  from  one  thing  to  another,  more  as  the 
result  of  volitions  other  than  his  own,  it  may  be  said  in  his 
defence  that  many  of  his  friends  worked  persistently  at  the  busi 
ness  of  snaring  this  elusive  butterfly.  He  had  all  the  arrogance 
of  young  quick  success,  but  he  lacked  all  the  offensive  phases  of 
egotism.  True  he  talked  of  his  life,  his  experiences,  his  intimacies, 
his  ambitions  with  frankness,  but  it  was  a  frankness  as  interesting 
as  it  was  engaging.  Southward  listened  to  everything  he  told  her. 


328  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

She  never  asked  questions,  but  she  was  adept  at  making  the  kind 
of  comment  that  is  more  successful  in  eliciting  further  confidence 
than  the  most  direct  and  searching  interrogatories. 

More  and  more  however  as  Southward  became  identified  with 
his  work,  Dwight  tended  to  avoid  big  parties,  to  segregate  her  at 
crowded  affairs,  to  take  her,  on  his  nights  off,  where  they  could 
be  alone.  Inevitably,  as  time  went  on,  there  came  less  frequent 
allusion  to  Dora,  Jane,  Patty,  Cynthia,  and  Kathleen;  or  to 
any  of  the  other  women  to  whom  he  had  introduced  South 
ward.  But  it  was  apparent  that  his  intimacy  with  Azile  still  held. 
At  first  he  had  not  alluded  to  his  long  writing  sessions  in  the 
Stable-House.  But  now  he  was  careful  to  say,  "  I'm  going  up  to 
Azile's  Thursday  morning  to  do  a  chapter."  Or,  "  Sorry  that  I'm 
engaged  to-morrow  now  that  the  weather's  so  good — I'm  due  at 
the  Stable-House."  Or,  "I'm  taking  Azile  off  on  a  little 
trip  to-morrow."  He  never  volunteered  any  descriptions  of 
these  excursions  and  Southward  never  made  any  comment  on 
them.  The  extra  work  resulted  inevitably  in  a  simpler  way 
of  life — earlier  to  bed  and  a  perceptible  falling  off  in  all-night 
dissipation. 

"  Southward,  you're  exerting  a  fine  moral  influence  on  Dwight," 
John  said  to  her  once  semi-humorously.  "  He's  keeping  a  much 
better  pace  than  last  year  at  this  time.  Showing  you  the  town  is 
an  innocent  diversion  which  has  prevented  dissipation." 

"  Thank  you,  John."  The  faint  glimmer  of  Southward's  mirth 
made  liquid  the  agate  depths  of  her  eyes.  "  It's  the  first  time  I've 
ever  been  called  an  elevating  and  refining  influence.  The  truth  of 
the  matter  is  that  I've  been  maligned.  You're  the  only  man  I 
know  who  really  understands  me." 

"  The  moment  you  hear  that  that  big  German  oculist,  Grein- 
schmidt,  has  started  East,"  Southward  prodded  Dwight  again  and 
again,  "  tell  me.  Because  I've  got  to  make  a  quick  hike  back  to 
Shayneford." 

"What's  all  this  Greinschmidt  business  about?"  Dwight  de 
manded  finally. 

"  I  want  him  to  examine  Charlotte's  eyes.  You  remember  my 
cousin,  Charlotte  Howes?" 

"  Oh,  yes,"  Dwight  answered,  "  perfectly.  Extraordinary-looking 
woman." 

"  I  want  to  see  if  her  sight  can  be  restored." 

"  Has  she  been  blind  long  ?  " 

"  About  fifteen  years.    She  was  blind  when  she  came  to  live  with 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  329 

us.  I've  always  had  a  feeling — or  at  least  a  hope — that  she  might 
be  cured.  And  if  anybody  can  do  it,  Greinschmidt  can." 

"  He's  an  expensive  beggar,"  Dwight  warned  her. 

"  Yes,  I  know  that,"  Southward  answered.  "  But  I  have  a  little 
money  that  my  mother  left  me.  Charlotte  hasn't  anything  of 
course.  I'm  going  to  put  the  whole  situation  to  Greinschmidt 
and  ask  him  to  operate  if  it's  necessary  and  charge  what's  fair. 
I  think  I've  got  one  thing  to  tell  him  that  will  make  him  do  it." 
She  said  this  as  though  for  the  first  time  confiding  a  resolution, 
newly-made  to  herself.  And  as  though  ink  had  been  infused  into 
her  skin  a  sudden  blackness  swept  over  her  face. 

"  Why  the  fighting-face,  O  Shaynef ord  Spider  ? "  queried 
Dwight.  "  I  mean  what's  the  dope  ?  " 

"  I'm  telling  that  to  nobody  but  Greinschmidt.  However  I  don't 
worry  about  him.  He's  a  big  person.  He'll  do  it  of  course." 

"  Yes,  I  think  he  probably  will,"  Dwight  agreed.  He  turned 
and  looked  admiringly  at  Southward's  incisive  profile.  "  Gee, 
you're  a  corker.  You  do  exactly  what  you  want,  don't  you  ? " 

"  Not  exactly,"  Southward  qualified  this  statement.  "  But  be 
lieve  me  as  nearly  as  it's  humanly  possible." 

Four  months  had  gone  by.  It  was  late  in  February.  Although 
Southward  was  seeing  more  of  Dwight  than  at  first,  she  was  also 
seeing  more  of  Morena.  Their  morning  talks  over  the  telephone 
were  now  prolonged  tete-a-tetes  from  which  Hester  always  re 
treated,  closing  her  door  behind  her.  Twice  a  week  at  least  South 
ward  accepted  some  hospitality  from  him.  He  did  not  do  the  sort 
of  thing  that  Dwight  did  for  her.  Morena  did  not  at  all  care  for 
the  superficial  formal  side  of  New  York  life  and  very  little  for 
its  professedly  bohemian  aspect.  There  was  a  curious  kinship 
between  him  and  Southward,  growing  out  of  an  unexpected  simi 
larity  of  tastes.  Just  as  Dwight  tended  towards  the  expensive  and 
elegant,  Morena  gravitated  to  the  simple  and  characterised.  He 
knew  a  number  of  tiny,  quiet,  out-of-the-way  cafes;  indeed  he 
had  discovered  some  of  them  himself.  As  he  had  kept  his  find 
a  secret,  these  were  still  likely  to  be  filled  with  the  people  who 
belonged  in  them. 

"  This  one,"  he  explained  to  Southward  of  a  cafe  on  the  West 
Side  in  the  forties,  "  is  a  resort  for  all  the  broken-down,  out-at-the- 
elbow  nobility  of  New  York.  These  people  sitting  here  are  all 
barons  or  counts  or  marquises,  or  princes  even.  If  you're  one  of 
those  American  women  who  yearn  for  a  title — here's  your  chance — 
provided  you've  got  the  money  to  pay  for  it."  Or,  of  a  hotel  cafe 


330  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

in  the  region  of  Fourteenth  Street,  "  This  is  a  great  place  for 
South  Americans.  I  could  write  a  book  on  the  revolutions  that 
have  been  plotted  here,  and  as  for  filibustering  expeditions — they 
couldn't  be  catalogued."  He  took  her  to  a  French  pension  TV  here 
the  food,  abundant,  steaming  hot,  and  delicious,  was  passed,  in 
foreign  style,  from  hand  to  hand  on  huge  platters.  He  took  her 
to  Italian  restaurants,  a  German,  a  Greek,  a  Syrian,  a  Hungarian 
restaurant.  The  great  surprise  to  her  however  was  the  Turkish 
restaurant — a  surprise  because  she  very  much  enjoyed  the  strange 
food,  all  of  which  she  later  told  Hester  tasted  as  though  it  had 
been  perfumed.  This,  she  further  said,  was  a  real  adventure;  for 
as  they  entered,  "  Oh,  there  are  some  friends  of  mine !  "  Morena 
exclaimed.  "  The  people  at  that  corner  table  are  all  socialists 
and  anarchists.  Come,  you  ought  to  meet  them."  They  were 
invited  to  join  this  party  and  ended  by  spending  the  evening  with 
it.  Southward  listened  without  comment  except  the  unconscious 
comment  of  her  glimmering  eyes  to  what  she  afterwards  described 
to  Hester  as  the  "  wildest  bunch  of  nonsense  I  ever  heard  in  my 
life  delivered  by  people  who  looked  as  if  they  were  sane." 

Their  before-dinner  diversion  took  the  form  of  walks  by  the 
river  or  in  little  out-of-the-way  parks,  tiny  secluded  neighbour 
hood,  north  or  south,  which  Morena  had  discovered;  their  after- 
dinner  entertainment  visits  to  penny  vaudeville-houses,  movie- 
shows,  the  Irving  Place  Theatre.  But  perhaps  their  gayest  hours 
were  spent  in  shooting-galleries.  Southward  was  a  good  shot  and 
Morena  an  exceptional  one.  His  exploits  always  drew  an  audience 
which  Southward  was  likely  to  increase  to  a  crowd.  Even  the 
employees  of  the  place  gathered  when  the  gdy  young  girl  so  boy 
ishly  slim,  so  brilliantly  handsome,  drew  the  rifle  to  her  shoulder 
and  glanced  expertly  down  its  length  to  the  sight.  Often  the 
proprietor  gave  her  a  complimentary  round  of  shots;  she  left  in 
the  midst  of  an  admiring  trail  of  exclamatives. 

Their  conversation  had  during  this  period  a  superficial  effect 
of  intimacy.  And  to  some  extent,  their  intimacy  really  deepened. 
Their  kinship  in  enjoyment  made  them  laugh  a  great  deal.  And 
inevitably  those  who-  laugh  in  company  must  draw  mentally  to 
gether.  Again,  Morena  paid  her  many  compliments,  and  although 
Southward  fended  them  off  in  the  conventional  way,  it  was  ap 
parent  they  did  not  entirely  displease  her. 

Sometimes  Morena  added,  "  I'd  say  a  good  deal  more  of  this  if 
you'd  let  me,"  or  "  It's  getting  pretty  hard  to  hold  back  the  other 
remarks  I'd  like  to  make,"  or  "  Southward,  you're  a  provocative 
creature  and,  by  Jove,  I  think  you  know  it." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  331 

Southward  either  ignored  Morena's  remarks,  or  turned  the  sub 
ject;  but  she  did  this  with  less  and  less  success  as  the  weeks 
passed. 

"  I  don't  like  this  line  of  talk,"  she  burst  out  impatiently  once. 
Whereupon  Morena  fired  for  an  instant.  All  that  was  Latin  in 
him  glared  from  his  face.  "  You  don't  have  to  put  up  with  it. 
You  don't  hare  to  have  me  round." 

"  That  is  true,"  Southward  retorted  with  equal  spirit.  "  I  must 
remember  it." 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  Morena  said  in  another  moment.  "  I  had 
no  business  to  say  that.  Perhaps  I'm  a  little  more  tired  than  usual 
to-day,  and  sometimes,  Southward,  you  drive  me  to  the  point 

where You're  a  devil  of  course,  and  the  worst  of  it  is  you 

know  exactly  what  you're  doing." 

Southward  did  not  answer  this.  But  she  waked  him  up  the  next 
morning  at  the  same  time. 

There  was,  after  this,  a  change  in  the  atmosphere  of  their 
meetings.  But  only  for  a  little  while.  Gradually  Morena  became 
more  and  more  daring  in  the  expression  of  his  admiration.  South 
ward  did  not  seem  to  find  it  so  easy  either  to  ignore  or  deflect  it. 

She  resorted  to  badinage  which  increased  in  extravagance  as 
Morena's  complimentary  attacks  deepened  in  intensity.  An  air  of 
wild  hectic  gaiety  hung  over  their  conversation. 

Spring  came. 

It  had  been  a  cold  winter,  though  with  clear  weather  and  little 
snow.  Gradually  the  frost  went  out  of  the  air  and  a  tentative 
warmth  stole  into  it.  The  trees  and  bushes  in  the  little  parks 
began  to  have  a  strange  look,  damp  and  softly  swollen,  as  though 
something  inside  was  getting  too  big  for  its  small  compass.  Sud 
denly  one  day  there  appeared  on  those  pink-brown  boughs  a  spark 
here  and  there  of  green.  The  next  day  that  spark  was  a  green 
flarne  running  close  to  the  bough.  A  week,  and  the  parks  were  filled 
with  balloon-shaped  green  fires.  The  ivy  on  the  houses  dripped 
green  fire  cascades.  The  eye  glancing  down  the  filthy  brownstone 
vistas  from  blue  river  to  blue  river  caught  on  what  might  have 
been  volumes  of  emerald  smoke  rolling  over  yards  and  between 
houses.  In  a  few  days,  the  green  fire  turned  to  leaves,  grass, 
flowers.  Snowdrops  came;  jonquils,  narcissi.  In  itself,  the  frowsy 
old  city  looked  more  dusty  and  greasy  than  ever.  And  now  in  the 
crowded  neighbourhoods,  more  and  more  children  swarmed  into  the 
streets;  played  among  the  ash-cans  and  garbage-pails.  Uptown, 
more  and  more  children  beautifully  dressed,  accompanied  by  taut, 


332  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

trim  nurses,  flooded  the  grassy  hollows  of  the  park;  played  about 
the  ponds;  rode  the  donkeys;  roller-skated.  The  shop  windows 
burst  into  displays  more  frivolous  in  detail,  more  voluptuous  in 
effect  than  ever  before.  And  the  people  of  the  city  taking  the  signal 
from  them  and  perhaps  from  that  green  fire  whose  aromatic  odours 
still  burned  in  the  air  and  possibly  from  something  deeper,  keener, 
and  more  peremptory  in  their  own  hearts,  appeared  in  the  latest 
and  maddest  caprice  of  fashion. 

The  country-girls  had  responded  instantly  to  the  exhilarating 
call  of  winter.  Their  eyes  took  on  a  new  sparkle,  their  lips  a 
fresher  colour;  and  as  was  inevitable,  the  urban  influence  showed 
itself  in  a  more  studied  grace  of  costume.  As  the  weeks  length 
ened  to  months  and  the  days  continued  to  take  their  toll  of  dis 
sipation,  they  grew  a  little  languid.  With  the  oncoming  of  spring, 
the  tiny  apartment  seemed  to  shrink.  Their  windows,  open 
in  the  middle  of  the  day,  brought  to  them  the  clamour  of  the 
street;  a  strange  compound  of  the  cries  of  playing  children,  con 
flicting  samples  of  itinerant  music;  the  roars  of  neighbouring 
gramophones;  the  vociferous  call  of  passing  peddlers.  There 
surged  up  to  them  all  kinds  of  unpleasant  city  smells  that  till 
now  the  frost  had  concealed. 

"  Gee,  it's  getting  hot  and  noisy  and  dirty  and  smelly,"  South 
ward  burst  out  irritably  one  day. 

"  Yes,"  Hester  answered,  "  when  you  think  how  heavenly  Shayne- 
ford  is  now." 

"  Goodness,  yes — violets — anemones — and  every  bush  a  bunch  of 
pink  or  white  or  yellow  chiffon.  And  yet,  I  wouldn't  go  homo 
for — I'm  going  to  stay  just  as  long  as  I  can — at  least  until  the 
gang  beats  it.  How  do  you  feel,  Hester  ? " 

"  I  don't  ever  want  to  go  home.  I'd  stay  all  summer,  I  don't 
care  how  hot  it  gets,  or  if  everybody  we  knew  left  town.  That  is 
if  the  money  would  only  hold  out.  Why,  Southward,  I  can't  tell 
you  how  I  feel.  I  look  upon  this  life  here  as  the  interval  between 
two  jail  sentences.  Oh,  you  don't  know.  Nobody  knows.  I  can't 
tell  anybody  because  I  can't  tell  myself."  Hester  had  begun  with 
her  usual  simplicity  and  with  the  increased  oral  smoothness  and 
articulateness  that  happiness  had  given  her.  But  she  ended  in 
a  kind  of  wildness. 

"  Sometimes  I  go  to  that  window,"  she  continued,  "  and  look  out 
on  that  streetful  of  dirty,  impudent  little  street-brats  yelling  inso 
lence  and  profanity  to  each  other  and  anybody  who  happens  to  be 
passing,  and  I  drink  the  sight  of  it  down  as  though  it  was  the 
picture  I  most  want  to  see  in  all  the  world — Botticelli's  Spring." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  333 

"  Well,  we've  certainly  got  a  bad  attack  of  New  Yorkitis,  both 
of  us,"  Southward  remarked,  as  usual  resolving  Hester's  intensity 
'by  her  humorous  directness. 

Southward  had  a  dinner  engagement  that  night  with  Morena. 
But  just  before  she  started,  Dwight  telephoned  to  her.  Their  con 
versation  was  prolonged. 

"Do  you  know,"  she  said  suddenly,  interrupting  lightness  with 
seriousness,  "  Hester  and  I  have  been  talking  future  plans  to-day 
and,  for  the  first  time  since  we've  come  here,  we're  admitting  to 
each  other  that  there's  such  a  place  as  home.  We  even  allowed  as 
how  the  time  must  come  when  we  shall  have  to  leave  this  glorious 
burg.  For  one  thing,  money — drat  it — will  give  out.  And  for 
another,  you  don't  stay  all  summer  long  in  a  big  city.  By  the 
way,"  she  concluded  as  though  just  struck  with  the  thought,  "  what 
are  you  people  going  to  do  ?  " 

"  I  don't  know  exactly,"  Dwight  answered.  "  Azile  and  I  were 
talking  about  it  the  other  day.  Of  course  I'm  strong  for  Shayne- 
ford,  but  she  isn't.  You  know  how  restless  she  is;  it's  always 
'  green  fields  and  pastures  new '  for  her.  I  can't  get  any  opinion 
one  way  or  the  other  out  of  John.  He  always  says,  '  whatever  the 
rest  of  you  decide.'  Edith's  idea  is  to  find  a  new  spot — preferably 
in  the  mountains  this  time — and  take  you  two  girls  along.  Azile 
seemed  to  think  that  as  good  a  plan  as  any." 

"  I  can't  go,"  Southward  decided  immediately,  "  and  I'm  sure 
Hester  couldn't.  It's  a  matter  of  money  with  both  of  us;  and  in 
addition,  I  have  to  consider  that  operation  on  Charlotte's  eyes." 

"  Well,  I  shall  come  to  Shayneford  anyway,"  Dwight  announced. 
"  Of  course  I'm  not  going  to  throw  the  crowd  down.  We've  been 
doing  things  together  three  or  four  years  now  and  that  wouldn't 
be  classy.  I'm  going  to  Shayneford  though — that  is  if  you're 
there.  I'm  going  to  ask  for  an  arrangement  to  bunch  my  two 
days  off  every  other  week,  and  by  travelling  nights  I  can  get  half 
a  week  there." 

Southward  made  no  comment. 

"  Don't  you  want  me  to  come  ? "  he  demanded. 

"  Of  course." 

"  Then  show  some  enthusiasm,  please." 

Southward  said  nothing.  But  her  gay  laugh,  which  hanging  up 
the  receiver  broke  off,  held  plenty  of  enthusiasm. 

Away  from  the  telephone,  a  wild  gaiety  seized  Southward.  That 
gaiety  kept  up  through  her  dinner  with  Morena,  held  itself  at  a 
high  note  through  all  their  evening  together.  And  perhaps  because 
of  it,  she  relaxed  a  little  the  non-committal  mood  which,  for  weeks 


334  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

now,  she  had  tried  to  sustain  toward  Morena.  She  responded  to 
his  complimentary  sallies  with  impertinent  counter-attacks.  She 
laughed  at  him  and  with  him.  Even  when  she  was  silent,  smiles 
that  had  no  apparent  reason  for  being  made  white  flashes  in  her 
dark  face. 

Morena  grew  quiet  as  the  evening  passed,  but  his  eyes  never 
left  her.  It  was  as  though  she  were  showing  a  new  side  to  him 
and  yet  a  side  more  bewitching  than  any  he  had  yet  seen.  Instead 
of  saying  good-bye  when  she  opened  the  inner  door,  he  stepped  with 
her  into  the  dimly-lighted  inner  hall.  As  she  turned  her  face 
inquiringly  towards  him,  he  slipped  an  arm  about  her. 

The  powerful  jerk  to  which  he  subjected  her  brought  her  head 
to  his  shoulder.  Before  she  could  raise  it,  he  kissed  her  once — 
twice — short  fierce  kisses — then  a  long  kiss. 

For  that  long  instant  Southward  was  quiet,  a  dead  weight  in  his 
arms.  Then  she  became  lightning;  a  jungle-cat.  She  tore  herself 
loose  and  struck  at  him.  He  evaded  a  blow  that  was  aimed  at 
his  cheek.  It  grazed  his  shoulder.  She  retreated  backwards  to 
the  stairs. 

"  How  dare  you — how  dare  you  ? "  she  raged,  "  when  I  told  you 
that  other  time — that  you  must  never — if  you  ever " 

Morena  was  however  perfectly  composed  by  this  time. 

"  I  ought  to  apologise,  Southward,"  he  said  gravely,  "  and  I 
do.  But  in  your  heart,  you  know  you  are  as  much  to  blame  as  I." 

Southward  did  not  answer.  She  fled  blindly  up  the  stairs,  at 
first  with  a  queer  staggering  gait;  in  the  end  with  a  speed  that 
gradually  attained  directness.  Hester  did  not  speak  when  she 
opened  the  door;  she  lay  sleeping  quietly,  the  moonlight  making  a 
pale  glory  of  her  hair.  Southward  ran  to  her  room;  threw  herself 
face  downwards  on  her  bed;  lay  there  until  the  strange  shaking 
of  her  body  subsided. 

She  did  not  call  Morena  on  the  telephone  the  next  morning. 
But  he  called  her ;  apologised  humbly,  concluding  with  an  entreaty 
for  her  not  to  break  off  their  morning  talks.  She  accepted  this 
apology. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

BUT  later  in  the  day  Southward's  spirits  began  to  rise.  And 
when,  towards  night,  Dwight  called  her  up  with  an  invitation  to 
frivolity,  she  had  reached  another  high  point  of  gaiety.  That  high 
point  maintained  itself  during  dinner  and  over  into  the  rather  dull 
party  which  they  attended.  There  was  no  particular  reason  why 
the  party  should  be  dull,  Dwight  pointed  out  to  her.  It  was  held 
in  the  "  village  "  and  included  the  cream  of  the  "  villagers."  "  I 
suppose,"  he  added,  "  everybody's  so  blooming  brilliant  that  the 
light  is  too  dazzling — result  as  ruinous  as  though  everybody  were 
dull.  Too  bad  though !  " 

"  I  don't  care,"  Southward  declared,  "  I  feel  as  happy  as — I'm 
having  the  time  of  my  life.  I  don't  know  why  exactly." 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Dwight.  And  his  spirits  perfectly  matched 
hers.  "  But  I  know  why.  It's  because  the  right  girl  is  here.  You 
make  my  good  time,  Southward." 

Southward  did  not  speak  but  stood  immobile  for  an  interval,  her 
eyes  raised  to  his.  Dwight  did  not  speak  either  and  he  continued 
to  stare  down  into  her  eyes.  They  rested  thus  an  instant  in  the 
little  alcove  to  which  they  had  retreated  from  the  dancing,  South 
ward  exchanging  her  glimmer  for  Dwight's  sparkle. 

"  Gee,  you  are  stunning  to-night,"  Dwight  said  finally.  "  I  never 
saw  you  look  so — you're  a  blazing  oil-well.  You  mustn't  get  too 
pretty — you  make  it  too  hard  for  a  man." 

Unaccountably  he  became  silent  after  this;  grave,  distrait, 
moody.  The  party  began  to  diminish  in  numbers.  Presently  there 
were  only  a  score  left.  Somebody  proposed  that  they  should  go  to 
an  uptown,  all-night  cafe.  They  started. 

It  was  very  late.  The  cars  were  infrequent,  pedestrians  occa 
sional;  taxis  absent.  Walking  up  Seventh  Avenue,  the  crowd  sud 
denly  turned  as  gay  as  though  the  party  had  been  a  complete 
success.  Perhaps  it  was  the  infection  of  Southward's  spirits.  She 
started  them  playing  games.  "  Ring  Around  a  Rosie,"  "  London 
Bridge  is  Falling  Down,"  "  Snap  the  Whip."  For  blocks,  they 
met  nobody  but  a  policeman  who  watched  their  progress  without 
surprise,  but  with  an  air  of  judicial  appraisement,  and  a  friendly 
drunk  who,  while  clinging  to  a  lamp-post  for  needed  support, 

335 


336  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

earnestly  besought  them  to  take  him  along.  Southward  was  the 
head  and  front  of  all  this.  She  was  wearing  the  short  white 
evening  gown  that  she  had  brought  from  Shayneford.  She  had 
taken  off  her  coat,  as  the  night  was  comparatively  warm,  had 
handed  it  to  Dwight.  But  about  her  white  figure  there  floated  a 
huge  square  of  thinnest  chiffon  which  shaded  from  pale  yellow  to 
deep  orange,  through  flame  colour  to  scarlet.  She  wore  gold  stock 
ings  and  gold  slippers. 

As  they  neared  Forty-second  Street,  Southward  fell  to  the  rear, 
tailed  the  fluttering  gay-plumaged  line;  danced  alone.  Behind,  at 
a  distance  appropriate  for  his  amused  observation,  came  Dwight. 
At  the  corner  stood  a  group  of  men,  drivers  apparently  of  the 
taxis  which  lined  the  sidewalk.  As  Southward  dropped  from  the 
dance  to  the  quick  walk  which  brought  her  to  the  rest  of  the 
sobered  party,  one  of  the  taxi-drivers  dropped  a  remark,  obviously 
made  for  her  benefit. 

"  What  was  that  ?  "  Dwight  demanded  peremptorily. 

The  man  wheeled  but,  though  apparently  surprised,  repeated 
his  remark  after  an  instant  of  indecision. 

Dwight  came  forward  swiftly,  his  fists  up.  The  crowd  parted, 
not  to  permit  freedom  to  the  fighters  but  to  attack  Dwight  in 
unison.  Dwight  stepped  back  lightly  to  a  point  where  the  wall 
guarded  his  rear. 

Southward  had  crossed  the  street.  She  turned  back  for  Dwight. 
By  this  time  he  had  engaged  all  four  of  his  assailants.  He  was 
half  a  head  taller  than  the  tallest,  and  palpably  a  trained  boxer. 
Southward  stood  a  poised  and  paralysed  instant,  taking  in  the 
situation.  In  that  instant,  one  of  Dwight's  opponents  dropped  into 
the  gutter.  He  lay  there. 

Southward's  paralysis  broke.  She  sped  like  a  flash  of  lightning 
across  the  street.  As  she  reached  the  sidewalk,  a  second  of 
Dwight's  antagonists  reeled  backwards.  As  though  involuntarily, 
her  fist  came  out  in  passing  and  so  accelerated  the  impulse  Dwight 
had  given  him  that  he  fell.  He  was  not  definitely  knocked  out 
like  the  first,  but  he  was  dazed.  He  raised  himself  on  his  hands 
and  stupidly  contemplated  the  fight. 

The  remaining  two  were  not  such  easy  prey.  Still  Dwight 
fought  briskly,  master  of  the  situation.  And  as  his  body  moved  in 
ever  so  tiny  a  radius  avoiding  blows,  as  his  arms  plunged  forward 
delivering  them,  and  as  he  ducked  and  countered  and  side-stepped, 
his  face  was  white  with  fury.  But  ever  he  smiled.  His  smile  was 
a  smile  of  absolute  enjoyment;  and  yet  there  was  something  sinister 
in  it.  Southward  stood  at  a  little  distance  and  watched.  She 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  337 

did  not  move  or  speak;  immobile  as  iron;  keenly  watchful  yet 
quiveringly  ready  to  act. 

The  whole  affair  ended  suddenly.  A  policeman  appeared  around 
the  corner  and  pulled  the  two  drivers  backwards  by  their  collars. 

"  What's  all  this  about?"  he  demanded  gruffly. 

"  Nothing,  officer,"  Dwight  answered  crisply.  "  These  men  made 
a  remark  about  this  lady  as  she  was  passing  and  I  punched  them — 
that's  all." 

"  What's  your  name  ? " 

"  Cameron  of  the  Planet."    Dwight  fished  for  a  card. 

The  policeman  studied  them  all  with  impartial  suspicion,  glanced 
at  the  card.  "  Do  you  want  to  make  any  complaint  ? "  he  asked. 

"  No,"  Dwight  replied,  "  I'm  satisfied." 

He  straightened  his  clothes  out,  picked  up  Southward's  coat 
which  he  had  thrown  to  one  side.  "  Good  night,  officer." 

Their  party  had  disappeared.  Dwight  and  Southward  walked 
in  silence  across  Forty-second  Street.  Then  Dwight  hailed  a 
passing  taxi;  helped  Southward  in.  His  face  had  turned  a  deep 
purple-crimson. 

"Your  cheek  is  cut  a  little,"  Southward  said  with  composure. 
With  her  handkerchief  she  wiped  the  blood  off. 

"  Yes,  the  little  dark  one  got  to  me.  He  could  box — and, 
believe  me,  that  punch  rocked  me  some."  Dwight  did  not 
speak  for  an  interval  and  Southward  made  no  remarks.  She 
continued  however  to  wipe  the  blood  away  until  it  ceased  to  come. 
Dwight  did  not  seem  to  notice  her  ministrations.  He  looked 
straight  ahead  until  that  swift  sinister  purple-coloured  wrath 
ebbed  by  degrees  away. 

"  What  became  of  the  rest  of  the  gang  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  I  don't  know ;  I  suppose  they  think  we  dropped  out  and  went 
home." 

"  You  were  great,  Southward,"  he  said,  after  another  pause,  "  I 
don't  suppose  there's  one  girl  in  a  thousand  who  wouldn't  have 
complicated  matters  by  screaming  or  crying  or  fainting.  I  caught 
sight  of  you  out  of  the  tail  of  my  eye  as  you  came  running  across 
the  street.  You  looked  like  a  saint  or  a  fury  or  an  Amazon — I  don't 
know  what — with  that  flame-coloured  scarf  streaming  out  back  and 
those  shining  slippers.  You  didn't  seem  to  run — you  flew." 

He  relapsed  into  sombre  meditation  as  one  of  the  recurrent  waves 
of  emotional  fury  carried  him  off  again. 

"  You  hit  one  of  them,  didn't  you  ? "  he  emerged  from  it  again. 

"  The  second,"  Southward  answered  succinctly. 

She  added  nothing.    And  Dwight  did  not  speak  for  another  block. 


338  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Then  suddenly  his  arm  shot  out  as  though  it  were  delivering  a 
different  kind  of  blow.  He  pulled  Southward  over  to  him  so  that 
her  head  fell  on  his  shoulder.  She  did  not  resist.  They  sat  thus 
until  she  got  home. 

There,  Dwight  scarcely  spoke.  He  helped  her  out  of  the  taxi 
with  rather  an  absent  air;  bade  her  a  grave  good  night;  left  im 
mediately. 

The  next  morning,  Dwight  called  her  on  the  telephone  early. 

"  That  German  gink  you're  so  interested  in — Greinschmidt — is 
in  Boston  now.  He  arrived  last  night  and  is  going  to  stay  a  week." 

"  Only  a  week !  "  Southward  exclaimed.  "  Only  a  week  ?  "  she 
repeated.  "  Well,  that  means  I've  got  to  go  over  to  Boston  to-day 
then.  I'll  take  the  ten  o'clock  limited." 

"To-day — this  morning!"  Dwight  ejaculated.  "Lord,  I  won't 
have  a  chance  to  see  you  then.  I'm  waiting  now  for  a  guy  who's 
sailing  for  Europe  at  nine.  I've  just  sent  my  card  up.  Can't  you 
put  it  off  till  to-morrow  or  till  three  this  afternoon  ? " 

"  No,"  said  Southward  with  instant  decision,  "  I  can't.  You 
see  if  I  go  this  morning,  I'll  be  in  Shayneford  to-night.  Then 
I  can  get  Charlotte  up  to  Boston  to-morrow  morning.  Of  course 
there'll  be  everything  to  contend  with — Greinschmidt  so  busy  that 
I'll  have  to  fight  my  way  to  him — Charlotte  frightened  to  death 
and  the  rest  of  the  family  worried What's  his  hotel  ?  " 

Dwight  told  her. 

"  I'm  going  to  long-distance  at  once  and  see  if  I  can  make  an 
appointment." 

"  Yes.  That's  the  thing  to  do.  Then  I  shan't  see  you  for 

How  long  will  you  be  gone  ? " 

"  Probably  not  over  a  week,  ten  days  or  so.  I'll  take  Charlotte 
home  as  soon  as  possible.  I'll  get  Sue-Salome  Hatch  to  come  up 
and  help  me  take  care  of  her." 

"  A  week  seems  like  an  awful  long  time,"  Dwight  said.  "  I  can't 
seem  to  see  New  York  without  you  in  it,  Southward.  There  was 
something  I  was  going  to  tell  you  before  you  left."  He  paused. 
"  But  I  think  probably  you  know  what  it  was." 

Southward  did  not  speak.    They  were  both  silent. 

"  Good-bye,  Southward." 

"  Good-bye,  Dwight." 

Southward  stood  at  the  telephone  for  an  interval  after  she  hung 
up,  her  arm  over  her  eyes,  leaning  against  the  wall.  But  when 
she  joined  Hester  at  the  breakfast-table,  her  head  was  thrown 
back,  her  mouth  smiled,  in  a  rapture  of  exultation,  her  eyes 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  339 

"Where  did  you  get  those  stars  you're  seeing  with  this  morn 
ing  ?  "  Hester  asked  playfully. 

Southward  broke  the  news  of  her  trip  to  Shayneford.  Hester 
was  at  once  all  interest  and  sympathy.  Southward  rushed  about 
the  apartment  collecting  clothes  and  toilet  articles  from  every 
where,  threw  them  into  her  big  suitcase.  But  here  Hester  inter 
vened.  She  took  them  all  out  and  carefully  repacked  them. 


CHAPTEK  XVII 

HESTER'S  experience  in  New  York  was,  of  course,  very  different 
from  Southward's.  She  did  not  attack  the  city  as  Southward  had, 
delivering  one  blow  here,  another  there,  tripping  it  finally  so  that 
the  huge  Colossus  fell  prone,  the  victim  of  untiring  initiative  and 
audacity.  On  the  contrary,  Hester  stood  still  and  let  the  seething 
flood  of  metropolitan  existence  creep  about  her  until  it  submerged 
and  bore  her  off;  bore  her  whither  it  would  into  this  little  eddy  of 
activity,  that  tiny  backwater  of  quiet;  or  for  a  while  on  yonder 
smooth  current  which  in  the  end  flowed  into  one  bearing  straight 
ahead.  She  was  perhaps  not  of  the  type  to  make  a  swift  social  suc 
cess  anywhere;  and  certainly  not  in  New  York.  The  welcoming 
gaiety  interested  and  absorbed  her;  the  masked  costume-ball;  the 
party  in  John's  room;  Azile's  high-coloured  temperamental  hos 
pitality.  But  gradually,  as  her  own  unfitness  for  such  hectic 
activity  manifested  itself,  she  withdrew  from  it  all.  Edith,  John, 
and  Ripley  touched  only  the  outer  rim  of  this  wheel  of  dissipation ; 
Edith  because  she  was  too  frail,  the  men  because  they  were  too 
busy.  But  they  offered  Hester  plenty  of  their  jwn  simpler  forms 
of  enjoyment. 

Hester  had  never  seen  such  a  life  as  Edith  led,  had  never  read 
of  one;  had  not  even  guessed  such  lives  could  be.  It  seemed 
made  up  of  long  excursions  into  the  art-world  by  means  of  art- 
exhibitions,  which  she  attended  in  wearisome  numbers;  long  ex 
cursions  into  the  book -world  by  means  of  the  new  books,  some  of 
them  limited  expensive  editions,  which  she  ordered  with  a  reckless 
prodigality;  interminable  wanderings  through  shops;  examining 
clothes,  jewelry,  the  beautiful  stuffs  of  which  she  already  had  a 
collection  that  she  could  not,  in  any  private  capacity,  use  up  during 
a  whole  lifetime;  gathering  the  antiques  which  for  lack  of  room 
she  had  begun  to  store. 

Many  of  these  expeditions  ended  in  purchases.  But  these  pur 
chases  were  made  after  long  consideration,  many  vacillations,  and 
from  reasons  ultimately  so  finely  spun  that  they  scarcely  seemed 
reasons  at  all. 

Was  the  object  of  choice,  as  once  happened,  a  wedding-gift  to 
a  cousin  who  was  marrying  the  grocer  of  a  little  town  in  the  Middle 
West,  the  transaction  was  attended  by  the  same  scrupulous  care 

340 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  341 

which  she  would  have  shown  in  the  case  of  the  most  fastidious 
artist  of  her  acquaintance.  From  this  shop  they  went  to  that 
shop  and  on  to  more  shops  until  Edith  found  just  the  quality  of 
old  glass  that  she  wanted.  This  was  the  more  amusing  as  she  had 
a  very  definite  consciousness  that  her  cousin  knew  nothing  what 
ever  about  old  glass  and  might  easily  prefer  a  thick,  unbeautiful 
but  durable  modern  variety  which  to  Edith's  delicate  disgust  flooded 
the  market  at  that  time. 

"  But  as  I  haven't  any  idea  what  her  taste  is  except  that  it  is 
probably  bad,  I  shall  undoubtedly  not  please  her  whatever  I  choose. 
And  so  why  not  please  myself  ?  "  she  said  to  Hester. 

Hester's  answer  was  one  of  her  self -evolved  bits  of  philosophy; 
quiet,  gentle  but  with  a  suggestion  underneath  of  that  something 
which  made  people  recognise  in  her,  despite  her  lassitude,  her 
mental  hesitations,  her  social  cowardice — a  kind  of  inchoate,  unde 
veloped  force. 

"  Gift-giving  is  such  an  art,"  she  elucidated  slowly,  "  that  some 
times  I  feel  as  though  I  never  wanted  to  give  anybody  anything  or 
to  have  anybody  give  me  anything.  Southward  and  I  have  made  an 
agreement  never  to  exchange  presents.  If  we  could  find  out  what 

people  want But  often  they  don't  know  themselves.  The 

great  thing  would  be  to  discover  what  subconsciously  they  would 
like  and  haven't  realised  yet.  But  that's  almost  a  career  in  itself. 
I  suppose  if  you  were  to  find  out  that  I  really  wanted,  without  at 
all  knowing  it  myself,  a  hideous  coloured  chromo,  and  got  it  for 
me,  that  would  be  a  perfect  example  of  gift-giving." 

"  I  shall  never  be  a  perfect  giver  then,"  Edith  rejoined,  laugh 
ing,  "  because  I  simply  cannot  make  gifts  that  I  don't  like  myself." 

"  Well,"  Hester  said,  slowly  still,  as  one  who  reflects,  "  then  I 
should  say  in  that  case  you  were  giving  yourself  the  gift." 

"  I  suppose  I  am,"  Edith  confessed  contritely.  "  It  would  be  nice 
though  if  we  could  give  what  were  gifts  both  to  ourselves  and  the 
other  person.  In  fact,"  she  added  lightly,  "  it  just  occurs  to  me 
that  I'm  going  to  give  just  such  a  gift  now  if  I'm  not  much 
mistaken.  Come  right  up  to  Tiffany's  with  me  this  moment. 
We're  going  to  get  that  silver  bow  and  arrow  which  I  designed 
for  you  to  wear  in  your  hair.  It  was  to  be  ready  to-day.  Do  you 
remember  that  I  asked  you  if  I  could  do  that  for  you  ? " 

"  Of  course  I  do,"  Hester  answered.  "  That  is  an  ideal  gift. 
It  is  sweet  of  you,  Edith." 

"  And  we'll  make  a  holiday  of  to-day  because  it  will  be  the  first 
time  you  wear  it.  When  I  get  back  I'll  call  up  John  and  Ripley 
and  ask  them  to  dinner." 


342  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

The  two  women  proceeded  to  Tiffany's  where  the  pin,  slim  and 
shining,  awaited  them  in  a  little  velvet-lined  grey  box.  It  was 
late  in  the  afternoon  and  they  went  home  immediately.  Just  as 
soon  as  they  arrived,  Edith  conducted  Hester  to  her  bedroom  and 
insisted  that  she  should  do  her  hair  over. 

"  I'll  admit  that  it's  something  of  a  job.  It  would  tire  me  to 
death  to  handle  those  great  ropes.  But  I  am  wild  to  see  how  the 
pin  looks." 

Edith  stretched  herself  with  a  long  sigh  of  weariness  on  her 
bed.  It  was  a  big,  high,  canopied  affair  hung  with  masses  of  tea- 
coloured  lace,  and  an  old  rose  brocade  which  dropped  a  faint  colour 
onto  Edith's  wan  face.  She  banked  herself  at  every  point  with 
the  cushions  that  heaped  it  high,  relaxed  with  a  momentary  drop 
ping  of  her  eyelids ;  watched  Hester. 

Docile  as  usual,  Hester  pulled  down  her  braids,  which  that  after 
noon  were  coiled  in  a  great  basket  at  the  back  of  her  head,  undid 
them,  brushed  them  out.  Perhaps  it  was  the  change  in  the  air  and 
atmosphere  that,  quickening  her,  in  every  way,  had  so  enlivened 
her  hair.  Its  characteristic  wiriness  had  gained  a  new  force,  its 
lustre  a  new  radiance.  It  poured  in  lapping  floods  of  molten  gold 
from  her  head  over  the  back  of  the  low  chair  in  which  she  sat; 
heaped  itself  up  on  the  rose-coloured  carpet. 

"  Fairy-tale  princess,"  Edith  accused  her,  smiling  gently. 

Hester  rose  finally  to  brush  and  braid  her  hair.  And  the  slender 
plaits  which  she  produced  had  to  wind  twice  about  her  head  before 
she  could  catch  them  together,  just  above  the  middle  of  her  brow, 
with  the  new  brooch. 

The  silver  bow  and  arrow  was  a  success,  as  John  and  Ripley 
several  times  told  Hester  that  evening.  And  as  not  only  they,  but 
Edith,  commented  again  and  again  on  her  improved  looks,  the 
evening  turned  into  a  modest  ovation  for  her. 

Edith  was  the  centre  of  a  small,  closely  intimate  circle  of  friends, 
strange  waifs  and  strays  most  of  them,  which  her  beauty  and 
charm  attracted  and  her  kindness  held.  The  atmosphere  of  her 
circle  was  very  different  from  that  of  Azile's.  Azile  lived  in  a 
whirlpool.  Around  her  revolved  a  group  of  satellites  of  which  the 
inner  group,  small  and  select,  was  always  fixed  and  the  outer  group, 
large  and  casual,  always  shifting.  Edith's  menage  was,  in  com 
parison,  like  some  quiet  forest  pool.  Her  formal  entertaining 
was  rare,  elaborate,  and  carefully  planned.  And  though  owing  to 
her  genuine  kindness,  her  very  present  interest  in  her  friends,  it 
was  never  a  failure,  owing  to  her  lack  of  force  it  was  often  a 
little  dull.  It  tended  to  be  negative  in  character.  The  food  at 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  343 

her  dinner-parties,  though  beautifully  cooked  and  exquisitely 
served,  grew  always  tepid  before  it  reached  the  table;  and  that 
somehow  was  typical  of  her  hospitality. 

The  closest  of  her  friends  was  Kena  Osgood,  a  trained  nurse. 
She  was  a  woman  of  about  forty,  faded,  with  a  something  be 
latedly  girlish  about  her.  Her  face  was  pale  and  lined  and  yet 
there  was  a  softness  everywhere;  a  wavy  softness  in  her  luxuriant 
brown  hair;  a  plaintive  softness  in  her  deep  brown  eyes;  a 
pathetic  softness  in  her  colourless  lips.  Originally  she  might  have 
been  as  shy  as  Hester,  but  ten  years  of  metropolitan  experience 
had  sloughed  that  shyness  off.  She  made  definite  overtures  of 
friendship  to  Hester;  an  occasional  invitation  to  the  theatre  on 
her  free  afternoon ;  or  a  bus  ride  when  she  was  sent  on  errands 
by  the  elderly  invalid  to  whom  she  seemed  as  much  companion  as 
nurse.  Oftenest  perhaps  she  and  Hester  walked  in  the  Park 
together.  They  preferred  this  because  it  gave  them  the  best 
opportunity  to  satisfy  their  great  common  taste — a  love  of  chil 
dren.  Their  observations  on  all  occasions  were  sprinkled  with 
side  comments  on  the  children  they  passed.  But  in  the  Park 
they  deliberately  chose  seats  where  they  could  enjoy  playing 
groups. 

Miss  Osgood's  comments  were  often  professional  in  tone  and 
in  consequence  tinged  with  the  impatience  of  an  aroused  indig 
nation. 

"  Look  at  the  angle  of  that  carriage  shade !  "  she  would  exclaim, 
"  the  sun  is  shining  straight  into  the  baby's  eyes.  What  a  stupid 
nurse!  Now  what  do  you  suppose  that  child's  mother  would  think 
if  she  knew  its  eyes  were  being  ruined?  Well,  perhaps  she's 
playing  bridge  and  doesn't  care  what  happens  as  long  as  she  isn't 
being  bothered.  Can  you  imagine  yourself,  Hester,  ever  leaving 
the  care  of  a  baby  to  a  girl  as  ignorant  as  that  ? "  Or,  "  Now  look 
at  that  one.  See,  she's  tacking  up  that  bunch  of  dangly  things 
just  near  enough  so  that  the  baby's  eyes  cross  every  time  it  looks 
at  them.  She  couldn't  do  anything  much  worse.  See  what  a 
darling  he  is  too.  A  regular  boy!  Look  at  those  big  blue  eyes 
and  those  curls."  Or,  "  And  look  at  that  one  giving  her  baby  a 
pacifier.  Oh,  if  I  could  only  get  a  law  passed  prohibiting  pacifiers." 
Or,  "  That  one  that's  just  passed  is  a  blue  baby.  I  don't  suppose 
it  will  live  long — poor  little  thing." 

Miss  Osgood  would  intersperse  these  remarks  with  long  stories 
about  her  training  and  her  subsequent  professional  experiences. 
She  particularly  liked  maternity  cases.  She  had  never  grown  dull 
to  the  wonder  of  birth;  had  never  ceased  to  marvel  at  it.  She 


344  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

always  grew  fond  of  the  new-born  baby  and  some  she  had  bidden 
good-bye  with  real  suffering. 

"  There  was  a  little  girl  called  Margery/'  she  said  once,  "  in  the 
Josephine-Gregory  hospital — the  Joe-Greg,  we  always  called  it — in 
Los  Angeles  that  I  took  care  of  for  the  first  six  months  of  her 
life.  She  was  a  delicate  child  for  a  while;  didn't  seem  to  digest 
her  food  and  kept  coming  back  to  the  hospital  for  long  periods. 
Her  mother  wasn't  with  her  of  course,  and  after  a  while  she  was 
very  busy  having  another  child  and  I  had  almost  the  complete  care 
of  Margery.  If  I  do  say  it  as  shouldn't,  I  made  her  the  strong 
healthy  little  girl  she  is  to-day.  She  was  almost  like  my  own 
child.  And  oh,  she  was  such  a  darling!  She  had  to  take  a  nap 
every  morning  and  afternoon  and  she  used  to  get  all  mixed  up  in 
time — she  never  knew  which  of  her  naps  was  night. 

" '  What  day  is  dis,  Miss  Osdood  ? '  she'd  say  after  her  morning  nap. 

"  I'd  answer  Tuesday. 

" '  Is  dis  still  Tooday,  Miss  Osdood  ? '  she'd  ask  after  her  after 
noon  nap.  And  she  had  such  cunning  little  expressions.  She 
couldn't  pronounce  the  hard  C  or  K.  At  first  she  always  said  '  tie  ' 
for  '  cry '  and  later  '  ky.'  When  she  finally  left  the  Joe-Greg  for 
good  and  I  knew  that,  except  for  an  accident,  she  never  would 
come  back  again,  I  cried  my  eyes  out.  If  she  had  been  my  own 
child,  I  suppose  I  would  have  loved  her  more;  but  it  doesn't  seem 
as  if  I  could.  And  she  loved  me.  She'd  leave  her  mother  for  me 
any  time.  At  first  I  used  to  go  to  see  her  regularly.  And  then 
they  went  away  for  a  while  and  when  they  came  back  it  wasn't 
the  same— her  mother  was  all-in-all  to  her.  Of  course  I  still  love 
her  but — I  shall  never  have  any  children  of  my  own  now,  and  yet 
I  sort  of  feel  as  though  my  life  hadn't  been  lived  in  vain.  Her 
mother  brought  little  Margery  into  the  world,  but  it  was  my  care 
that  kept  her  here." 

Miss  Osgood's  eyes  filled  as  she  related  this  experience;  and 
Hester's  eyes  grew  wet  too.  Her  answer  was  to  tell  the  story  of 
little  Bee,  and  again  Miss  Osgood  frankly  wept. 

The  two  women  were  soon  recognised  by  the  regular  habitues 
of  the  Park.  They  made  overtures  of  friendship  to  nurses  as 
well  as  children.  Soon  their  appearance  was  greeted  with  quiet 
expressions  of  welcome  from  the  elders,  and  vociferous  cries  of 
joy  from  the  children.  They  became  popular  with  the  nurses 
because  they  frequently  joined  in  the  children's  games,  giving 
them  a  chance  to  gossip  uninterruptedly.  If  the  diversion  were 
roller-skating,  they  helped  to  teach  the  amateurs  and  to  curb  the 
boisterousness  of  the  experienced.  In  snowy  weather,  they  hauled 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

the  babies  on  sleds,  taught  them  to  take  tiny  coasts  by  themsel 
Hester  used  to  come  back  from  these  long  open-air  sessions 

a  deep  colour  much  approved  by  John  on  the  rare  occasions  t 

he  saw  it. 

Southward  of  course  scorned  these  experiences. 

"  Hester,  you  certainly  are  a  strange  girl,"  she  exclaimed  once, 
"  wasting  all  this  beautiful  city  time  on  those  brats  in  the  Park. 
What  do  you  do  it  for?" 

"  Well,  I  really  enjoy  it  for  one  thing,"  Hester  replied.  "  And 
then  it  is  a  great  pleasure  for  me  to  look  at  such  beautiful  children. 
They  are  probably  the  healthiest  babies  I  have  ever  seen.  Such 
eyes  I  Such  hair  1  Such  complexions !  And  they  are  dressed  so 
sensibly.  I  declare  it's  a  joy  to  see  children  so  perfectly  equipped 
for  play.  You  know  I  love  children,  Southward.  I  have  been 
thinking,  as  I've  sat  there  in  the  Park  watching  them,  of  just  the 
kind  of  teaching  I'd  like  to  do.  There  must  be  lots  of  people 
living  in  the  city  who  have  children  a  little  too  old  for  nursemaids 
and  who  go  to  day  school.  Their  parents  must  be  puzzled  what 
to  do  with  them  in  their  free  hours.  They  can't  turn  them  out 
in  the  New  York  streets.  It's  too  dangerous.  Besides,  there's 
nothing  for  them  to  do  there.  And  they  must  get  tired — those 
older  children — of  constantly  playing  in  the  Park,  and  many  of 
them  can't  afford  a  special  attendant.  Now  I'd  like  to  take  little 
groups  of  say  six  or  eight,  ten  at  the  most,  for  long  walks  up  the 
river  and  out  into  the  suburbs,  into  museums  occasionally  and  to 
selected  art-exhibitions — but  most  of  it  to  be  in  the  open  air.  To 
keep  them  exercising  all  the  time — that  would  be  my  idea — and 
yet  to  get  them  into  the  habit  of  looking  at  the  world,  talking  it 
over,  and  thinking  about  it." 

"  Say,  that  would  be  a  good  scheme,  Hetter,"  Southward  said. 
"  I'd  bet  you  would  make  a  success  of  that.  You  have  so  much 
patience,  especially  with  children.  I  couldn't  do  it.  Some  day  I'd 
get  mad  and  brain  one  of  the  little  devils.  Why  don't  you  talk  it 
over  with  John  and  Edith  ?  " 

"  What's  the  use  ? "  Hester  sighed.  "  Mother  wouldn't  ever  let 
me  leave  her  for  good.  And  she  won't  go  away  from  Shayneford." 

"You  don't  know,"  Southward  returned.  "  She  might  do  it 
sometime.  You  never  can  tell.  You  wouldn't  have  believed  last 
summer  that  you  were  going  to  spend  the  winter  in  New  York." 

Nevertheless,  Hester  did  speak  of  her  scheme  to  both  Edith  and 
John.  They  encouraged  her  warmly. 

"  Keep  thinking  that  over,  Hester,"  John  advised.  "  Work  up 
some  routes  for  such  entertainment,  and  the  line  of  talk  you'd  de- 


346  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

velop  with  the  children.  Who  knows  but  your  chance  will  come  some 
day?    Edith  and  I — all  of  us — will  root  as  hard  as  we  can  for  you." 

A  second  of  Edith's  intimates  was  a  Mrs.  Pelham,  a  widow.  She 
was  a  strange-looking  woman.  Tall,  gaunt,  blond,  her  cheeks  sank 
into  shadow-lined  hollows,  her  eyes,  grey-green,  retreated  into  deep 
shadow-filled  caverns.  At  a  distance,  her  facial  aspect  was  a  little 
that  of  a  skull.  And  yet  she  had  a  kind  of  worn  attractiveness. 
She  gave  an  impression  of  lif elessness ;  for  she  rarely  talked.  Still, 
when  a  vivacious  mood  seized  her,  she  proved  interesting;  for  she 
was  widely-read,  much-travelled,  and  a  musician  of  technique  and 
taste. 

She  lived  in  a  boarding-house  on  upper  Madison  Avenue.  Hester 
went  there  occasionally  for  dinner  and  the  evening.  Mrs.  Pelham 
had  a  small  apartment  in  the  front  of  the  house,  a  big  living- 
room  with  an  alcove  bedroom.  She  had  furnished  it  herself,  she 
told  Hester,  but  that  was  evident  from  its  individuality;  the  sub 
stantial  old  walnut-set  in  brown  velours;  the  family  pictures  that 
made  with  the  profusion  of  foreign  litter  a  pleasing  whole.  Photo 
graphs  of  people  in  beautiful  frames,  silver,  morocco,  tortoise-shell 
lay  everywhere;  among  them,  recurring  with  a  notable  regularity, 
one  of  a  young  man.  Without  comment,  Hester  followed  his 
trail — it  was  a  frank,  fine,  gaily-handsome  face — from  table 
to  mantel  and  from  mantel  to  book-cases,  from  book-cases  to  walls, 
until  she  had  completed  the  circle. 

"  My  son,"  Mrs.  Pelham  said  quietly  when  Hester  stopped  at  the 
last  picture.  "  He's  been  dead  for  five  years,"  she  added  as  Hester 
bit  off  the  question  that  formed  on  her  lips. 

Then  very  quietly,  in  almost  a  casual  way  she  went  on : 

"  We  were  traveling  in  the  Sahara  together,  during  the  summer. 
The  next  year  he  was  to  finish  at  Harvard.  He  had  studied  hard 
and  I  felt  that  he  needed  a  complete  change.  I  asked  him  where 
he  wanted  to  go  and  he  said,  '  Into  the  desert.'  And  so  we  went. 
It  was  a  beautiful  trip;  a  small  party  of  us,  just  wandering  here, 
there,  everywhere,  any  place  that  he  wanted  to  go.  He  enjoyed 
it  more  than  any  travelling  we'd  ever  done;  we  were  great  pals, 
my  boy  and  I.  It  was  the  last  week  and  we  were  beginning  to 
pack  to  go  home.  One  night  towards  twilight,  he  started  alone  to 
take  a  little  walk  away  from  camp.  I  was  sitting  in  my  tent. 
He  called  to  me  that  he  was  going,  waved  a  good-bye  and  started 
off.  There  was  a  rising  full  moon  when  he  started.  He  seemed 
to  walk  right  into  it.  I  never  saw  him  alive  again.  A  sandstorm 
came  up.  As  soon  as  they  could  of  course  searching  parties  went 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  347 

out — but  it  was  a  week  before  they  found  him.  Of  course  that 

week  was There  was  a  physician  in  our  party — and — after 

a  while — he  said  that  Ted  must  be  dead — nobody  could  sur 
vive It  was  easier  then.  But  it  wasn't  quite  easy  until  they 

found  him  and  I  knew  he  couldn't  be  dying  anywhere  alone."  She 
stopped,  tranquilly  lighted  a  cigarette;  puffed  it. 

After  a  long  while  Hester  spoke.  But  first  she  looked  at  all  the 
pictures  again. 

"  Did  you  curse  your  God  for  giving  him  to  you,"  she  asked, 
"  if  he  meant  to  take  him  away  in  that  fashion  ?  " 

"  No.  Or  at  least  for  a  while  I  don't  know  what  I  did.  Possibly 
I  did.  But  now  I  thank  Him  for  the  gift  of  Ted's  life — for  what 
I  had  of  it.  It's  so  strange.  Everybody  pities  me.  Edith  pities 
me.  Rena  pities  me.  You  would  have  pitied  me,  but  you  won't 
when  I  tell  you  this,  I  pity  them.  Somehow  I  feel  so  superior,  so 
privileged.  I'm  so  much  happier  than  either  of  those  women.  I 
lost  him.  But  I  had  him!  For  twenty  happy,  happy  years  I  had 
him.  Do  you  suppose  there  is  any  unhappiness  that  could  ever 
wipe  out  that  happiness  ?  " 

"  No,"  Hester  said.  A  wave  of  certainty  deepened  her  voice  to 
hoarseness,  "  No.  Of  course  not." 

The  men  of  Edith's  group — and  this  was  not  entirely  the  effect 
of  masculinity — seemed  more  positive.  John  and  Ripley  were  its 
moving,  dominant  spirits.  There  came  often  Richard  Curley,  old, 
white-bearded,  bald,  a  broker  who  had  retired  with  a  fortune  and 
devoted  his  flagging  energies  to  the  collection  of  everything  from 
Roman  coins  and  ecclesiastical  silver  to  bandboxes  and  bird-cages. 
Rockwell  Doane,  violinist,  used  to  hold  the  company  spellbound 
through  long,  long  intervals.  He  was  a  quiet  middle-aged  man 
with  a  long  Danteesque  face  that,  peering  above  the  polished 
curves  of  his  violin,  seemed  in  the  shifting  shadows  of  Edith's 
drawing-room  like  some  mediaeval  gargoyle. 

Last  of  all  came  a  boy-illustrator,  Jackie  Fell,  whom  the  circle 
esteemed  a  genius.  Jackie  was  a  slender,  pale,  dark  lad  with 
shining  eyes  always  laughing  and  downy  hair  always  ruffled,  shy 
with  the  look  of  a  chicken  newly-hatched  contemplating  the  uni 
verse  in  troubled  wonder.  He  lived  in  a  strange  fairy  world  that 
he  had  invented  himself.  That  world  he  called  the  "  Little 
Country." 

He  always  made  a  joke  of  the  real  world  but  he  took  the  "  Little 
Country "  very  seriously.  And  he  referred  to  it  with  such  fre 
quency,  candour,  and  verisimilitude  that  the  rest  of  the  group  came 
gradually  to  accept  it  as  real.  Jackie  gave  them  positions  in  it; 


348  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

places  to  work  and  places  to  live;  names,  occupations,  responsi 
bilities.  They  developed  a  "  little  language  "  which  was  their  joint 
invention  and  which  would  have  made  much  of  their  conversation 
unintelligible  to  a  stranger.  In  his  nomenclature,  Jackie  alter 
nated  poetic  appellations  with  slangy  ones.  For  instance,  Edith 
whom  he  adored  was  the  Queen  of  the  "  Little  Country  "  but  John 
was  the  Chief  Cop.  One  of  his  fancies  was  that  conspirators 
whom  he  called  "  the  gang "  were  always  trying  to  poison  the 
Queen,  another  that  the  Chief  Cop  constantly  took  graft.  Miss 
Osgood  was  the  Baby-Hunter,  Mrs.  Pelham  the  Good-Peasant-in- 
the-Forest,  Curley  the  Guardian-of-the-Pyx,  Doane  the  Court- 
Magician.  Ripley  was  the  Keeper  of  the  Great  Seal.  And  in  order 
for  Ripley  the  more  carefully  to  fulfil  this  function,  an  enormous 
swimming  tank  had  been  built  inside  his  palace.  Within  the  tank, 
the  Great  Seal  flopped  happily  from  water  to  ice-floe.  Hester  he 
said  was  the  Shy  Fawn  living  in  the  Royal  Forest,  wild  and  of 
an  unimaginable  swiftness.  She  was  under  an  enchantment.  But 
what  she  had  been  before  she  turned  fawn  nobody  knew. 

One  day  Hester  went  with  Edith  to  Jackie's  studio — a  room 
near  the  top  of  the  Metropolitan  Tower.  She  spent  an  absorbed 
afternoon  looking  at  his  work.  He  was  doing  three  sets  of  pictures 
to  illustrate  as  many  books,  fairy  forest-pictures,  fairy  air-pictures, 
fairy  sea-pictures.  They  were  complicated  compositions  that,  even 
in  their  small  compass,  gave  an  effect  of  simplicity;  crowds  of 
figures,  a  multiplicity  of  detail,  done  with  precision  and  delicacy. 
From  a  distance,  the  main  outlines  were  bold;  yet  the  microscope 
revealed  treasure  of  exquisite  workmanship. 

In  one  of  the  sea-pictures,  a  little  mermaid  wore  long  earrings 
made  of  many  drops  of  blood-red  coral. 

"  That's  you,  Hester,"  Jackie  said.  "  Those  aren't  really  ear 
rings.  It's  blood.  You  see  she's  under  an  enchantment  and  the 
blood  can't  stop  flowing  until  the  spell  is  broken." 

To  these  people,  Edith  was  a  kind  of  social  Lady  Bountiful.  It 
was  evident  that  they  brought  many  of  the  perplexities  of  their 
lives  to  her,  that  she  listened  with  a  sympathy  that  never  dis 
solved  in  mere  talk.  She  served  them  in  all  kinds  of  delicate  and 
unobtrusive  ways.  Hester  fitted  into  this  group  as  in  the  whole 
course  of  her  life  she  had  fitted  into  no  other.  Perhaps  socially 
she  was  the  most  shy  and  inhibited  of  all  of  them;  but  obviously 
she  gained  confidence  from  a  perception  of  their  shyness  and 
inhibitions.  And  then  Edith,  who  seemed  to  grow  more  tired 
every  day,  came  to  depend  more  and  more  on  Hester  to  assist  her 
on  the  occasions  in  which  she  entertained. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  349 

Edith's  day,  it  soon  transpired,  was  an  abnormal  one.  She  arose 
at  noon;  ate  a  meagre  breakfast  which  was  also  lunch;  spent  most 
of  the  afternoon  on  one  of  her  various  beauty-chasing  raids  in 
antique-shops  or  auctions,  or  on  clothes-hunting  expeditions 
through  the  most  expensive  shops  on  the  Avenue.  Late  in  the 
afternoon  she  drove.  Up  the  Avenue  through  the  Park,  on  to  the 
drive,  back  into  the  Park  and  down  the  Avenue — the  radius  of 
her  drives  never  lengthened.  She  walked  here  no  more  than  in 
Shayneford.  She  used  taxis  as  she  would  use  postcards.  Dinner 
alone  was  a  simple  affair ;  with  guests  a  complicated  one.  Often  at 
night  she  went  to  the  opera,  or  to  a  concert,  and  occasionally  to 
the  theatre.  At  midnight  came  a  little  supper;  then  bed.  Came 
bed  but  not  sleep.  She  seemed  sensitive  in  regard  to  this  wakeful- 
ness,  for  she  never  discussed  it  directly.  But  in  her  conversation, 
there  was  enough  oblique  allusion  to  apprise  the  least  observant 
of  a  prevalent  state  of  insomnia.  Apparently  she  read  from  mid 
night  to  dawn.  What  sleep  came  afterwards  must  have  been  of 
a  strange  and  troubled  variety;  for  Edith's  first  waking  hours 
were  manifestly  broken  ones.  She  talked  a  great  deal  in  irrelevant 
phrases  which  rambled  anywhere  but  towards  a  point,  and  which 
had  no  connection  with  each  other  or  with  the  subject  under 
discussion.  In  those  early  hours  of  her  late  day,  Edith  looked 
as  strange  as  she  sounded — yellowly  pale,  purply-hollow ;  worn. 

One  day  Hester  said  to  Miss  Osgood,  "  I'm  really  very  worried 
about  Edith.  I  know  she  isn't  well  and  I  think  she  knows  it 
herself,  but  she  simply  will  not  talk  about  her  condition.  Have 
you  noticed  it  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  Miss  Osgood  answered  directly.  "  Of  course  I  have. 
Some  day  I'm  going  to  have  a  long  talk  with  her.  I'm  doing  my 
best  now  to  get  her  to  see  a  physician— I  know  just  the  one  for 
her.  I  can't  do  anything  about  it  until  that  aunt  of  hers  gets 
through  dying  though.  But  that  may  come  any  day  now.  Mrs. 
Blaisdell  can't  last  much  longer." 

"  I  always  feel  so  secure  when  I  realise  Edith  has  you  to  take 
care  of  her,"  Hester  added.  "  Because  you  really  love  her.  You'd 
do  anything  for  her." 

"  Yes,  I  love  her,"  Miss  Osgood  agreed.  "  I  never  could  pay 
Edith  back  for  what  she's  done  for  me — not  if  I  tried  all  the  rest 
of  my  life.  But  I'd  like  to  get  the  chance." 

"  I  love  her  too,"  Hester  said.  "  And  I  owe  her  a  great  deal. 
No  woman  except  Southward  has  ever  been  so  kind  to  me.  Per 
haps  we'll  both  get  our  <hance  some  day." 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

JOHN  called  up  Hester  on  the  telephone  late  one  snowy  afternoon 
with  a,  "  Don't  you  want  to  go  out  to  dinner  with  me  to-night  ?  I 
had  intended  to  take  Edith  but  she's  just  telephoned  to  say  that 
she  was  rushing  over  to  New  Jersey  to  see  that  aunt." 

"  I'd  love  it,  John,"  Hester  answered  with  her  characteristic 
frankness,  "  only — why  don't  you  come  here ;  Southward  is  off 
unexpectedly  with  Dwight  and  I'd  just  bought  such  a  delicious 
dinner  for  us  two.  It's  on  the  stove  now.  Don't  you  think  you'd 
enjoy  some  home  cooking?" 

"  You  bet  I  would,"  John  answered  with  equal  frankness.  "  I'll 
be  up  in  half  an  hour." 

He  was  there  sooner  than  that  however;  soon  enough  to  spread 
the  table  while  Hester  cooked  the  steak.  He  found  the  dinner 
delicious  and  did  not  hesitate  to  say  so.  They  had  steak  and 
stewed  tomatoes,  a  salad  of  lettuce  and  cucumber,  a  cottage  pud 
ding  with  hard  sauce.  After  dinner,  John  helped  Hester  to  wipe 
the  dishes. 

"  You  certainly  have  made  this  place  your  own,"  he  said  as  he 
filled  his  pipe  and  began  comfortably  to  draw  on  it.  "  Women 
are  amazing  creatures  in  that  respect.  They  can  do  anything. 
Adopt,  adapt,  adept — that's  your  sex  motto,  isn't  it  ?  " 

The  kitchen  really  looked  like  a  living-room.  The  floor  was  of 
course  bare  and  there  were  no  pictures  on  the  painted  yellow  walls ; 
no  superfluous  decorations  of  any  kind.  But  a  big  screen  of  gilded 
burlap  concealed  the  stove,  sink,  and  ice-box.  Over  this  habitually 
hung  Southward's  tomato-coloured  prince's  coat.  The  shelves,  at 
one  side,  were  filled  with  the  collection  of  old  Russian  copper  that 
Southward,  with  Dwight's  assistance,  was  gradually  collecting 
from  East  Side  junk  shops.  The  little  china-cabinet  housed  rows 
of  plates  and  cups  of  a  coarse  yellow  china,  dashed  with  barbaric 
colour.  From  brown  paper  Hester  had  made  for  the  electric  light 
which  dropped  over  the  centre-table  a  shade  whose  shape  everybody 
admired.  She  had  stained  the  big  deal  table,  which  was  the  only 
bit  of  furniture  they  bought,  a  clean  green  that  harmonised  per 
fectly  with  the  clear  yellow  of  the  walls  and  the  warm  brown  of 
the  woodwork.  There  was  nothing  on  the  table  now  but  a  big 

350 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  351 

basket  of  fruit.  Hester  had  not  pulled  down  the  shade  and  the 
frame  of  their  single  broad  window  enclosed  a  big  rectangle  of 
the  blue  New  York  dusk  bisected  by  massive  folds  of  snow  on  the 
roof  across  the  court.  Hester  sat  under  the  light,  knitting  with 
long  white  needles  on  a  huge  worsted  afghan  in  alternate  stripes 
of  dark  blue  and  deep  green. 

"  And  you  like  it  here,  don't  you,  Hester? "  John  went  on. 
.  "  Oh,  yes — I'm  very  pleased  with  this  little  place.  I'd  be  per 
fectly  happy  in  New  York  if  everything  didn't  frighten  me  a  little 
still.  And  if  I  weren't  haunted  by  the  fear  that  this  is  my  only 
peep  at  life,  that  I've  got  to  go  back  into  that  terrible  grey 
vagueness  in  which  I've  always  lived." 

"  You  may  have  to  go  back  to  it,"  John  conceded,  "  but  it  will 
never  be  the  same." 

"  No,  it  can't  be  that,"  Hester  agreed,  "  but  I'm  afraid  that  it 
will  be  worse.  You  see — well,  I  don't  think  you  can  understand 
what  my  feeling  towards  existence  has  been  for  the  last  five  years. 
You  can't  imagine  it  because  I  can't  explain  it.  But  I've  felt  all 
the  time  that  I  wasn't  really  in  life,  but  on  the  outside  of  it.  It's 
more  as  if  there  was  between  me  and  life  a  sheathing  of  something 
transparent  as  ^lass,  only  soft  and  supple  and  indestructible. 
There  is  no  opening  anywhere  and  I  can't  break  through  that 
unyielding  obstinacy.  I  can  see  what  is  going  on  under  the  glass, 
but  I  can't  hear  anything.  I'm  always  on  the  outside.  I  was  on 
the  outside  in  Shayneford  and  I'm  on  the  outside  here.  But  it's 
more  interesting  here,  looking  on.  Of  course,  though,  there  must 
ba  a  point  somewhere  where  I  can  break  through.  If  I  can  only 
find  it." 

"  You'll  find  it,"  John  prophesied  quietly. 

"  I  hope  so,"  Hester  said.  She  knitted  a  little  while  in  silence. 
It  was  John  who  broke  that  silence  first. 

"  Your  hair  is  very  wonderful  with  that  light  pouring  on  it," 
he  said  inconsequently.  "  It  looks  as  though  the  light  were  liquid ; 
it's  running  down  your  braids  in  little  sparks  and  globules  of 
gold." 

Hester  went  on  with  her  knitting.  She  did  not  raise  her  eyes, 
but  her  fingers  grew  a  little  agitated. 

"  It's  a  good  composition,"  John  went  on  contemplatively,  "  the 
background,  the  gold  screen  with  that  tomato-coloured  Chinese 
thing — the  green  table-top  with  that  mound  of  yellow,  orange,  and 
crimson  fruit,  all  that  deep  green  and  purple  stuff  you're  working 
on  and  the  white  needles.  Yes,  '  paintable  '  is  the  word." 

"  You  said  you  were  never  going  to  stop  telling  me  that,"  Hester 


352  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

reminded  him  a  little  tremulously.  "  Oh,  please  don't  stop — it 
makes  me  so  happy !  " 

John  veered;  returned  to  a  previous  subject  of  conversation. 

"  Of  course  about  this — what  you  call  '  breaking  through  into 
life ' — I  don't  know  when  it  will  come  or  where  or  why.  A]]  I  know 
is  that  it  will  come.  You  can't  beat  life.  It's  like  trying  to  get 
away  from  the  air.  It's  there,  all  around  you;  you  can't  suppress 
it.  Life  is  bound  to  get  you.  Sooner  or  later,  it'll  reach  out  to 
claw  or  caress  you,  one  or  the  other;  perhaps  both." 

"  I  don't  care  which  it  does,"  Hester  declared  simply,  "  as  long 
as  it  does  something." 

John  turned  the  subject.  For  the  first  time  he  told  Hester 
something  of  his  work.  She  knew  from  Southward  through  Dwight 
that  several  years  before  John  had  given  up  a  good  position  on  an 
evening  paper  to  work  on  an  East  Side  weekly,  that  he  had  put 
the  little,  dying  Tomorrow  on  its  feet.  John  did  not  refer  to 
this.  But  he  told  her  of  some  of  the  conditions  under  which  he 
worked. 

An  old  ramshackle  building  on  the  lower  East  Side,  dirty,  tiny, 
and  inconvenient,  housed  their  plant;  next  door  stood  a  paint  and 
varnish  shop,  which  helped  make  Tomorrow  the  worst  fire  risk 
in  Manhattan.  The  front  windows  looked  out  on  the  wide, 
crowded,  jangling,  clanging  Avenue,  the  back  onto  a  collection  of 
backyards  fecund  with  the  details  of  a  picturesque  alien  life.  Of 
his  small  force,  most  were  East  Side  Jews,  all  enthusiasts,  and 
some  cranks.  His  stenographer,  Minnie  Levinsky,  a  pretty, 
gazelle-eyed,  twenty-year-old  Jewess,  had  come  from  Russia  at 
ten  with  no  language  but  her  own.  Now  she  not  only  spoke  better 
English  than  he,  but  some  French.  She  had  picked  up,  God  knows 
how,  shorthand  and  stenography  and  was  studying  law;  she  spent 
her  evenings  reading  in  the  Public  Library.  Isadore  Goldknoff, 
his  fifteen-year-old  office  boy,  had  a  deep,  slum-bred  knowledge  of 
human  nature,  a  preternatural  social  cunning,  upon  which  John 
depended  to  keep  off  cranks.  These  cranks  hounded  his  footsteps 
and  took  up  his  time.  There  was  the  handsome  and  futile  society 
woman  who  suddenly  decided  to  become  the  link  between  Capital 
and  Labour;  there  was  the  mild  old  greybeard,  obsessed  with  the 
idea  that  the  earth  was  about  to  be  inundated  by  an  ice-deluge 
from  the  North  Pole  and  who  had  invented  a  system  to  avert  the 
calamity;  there  was  a  quiet-spoken  retired  army  officer  who  had  a' 
scheme  for  organising  the  industries  of  America  on  a  Germanic 
basis.  "  He  is  hardest  of  all  to  turn  down,"  said  John,  "  he  is  such 
a  gentleman."  Among  his  regular  and  useful  contributors,  the 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  353 

most  revolutionary  was  a  little  old  Maine  woman,  white-haired  and 
wearing  a  cap;  the  most  brilliant,  a  remarkable  young  poet 
whom  he  had  dug  starving  out  of  a  garret  and  who  had  since 
performed  the  phenomenal  feat  of  writing  a  best-selling  book  of 
verse;  the  most  promising,  a  young  person  who  wrote  under  the 
pseudonym  "  John  Stallard  "  the  virile  a  Glimpses  of  the  Ghetto/' 
and  who,  run  to  earth,  proved  to  be  a  Barnard  College  girl.  His 
weekly  bugbear  was  getting  the  paper  to  press.  His  contributors, 
writing  mostly  for  their  causes,  had  the  tardiness  of  amateurs. 
Copy  always  arrived  at  the  eleventh  hour,  and  on  Tuesday 
he  and  the  foreman  of  the  East  Side  shop  which  had  the  printing 
contract  worked  together  all  night. 

This  first  call  of  John's  was  followed  by  many  others.  He  did 
not  always  come  alone.  Sometimes  he  brought  Edith,  sometimes 
Kipley;  sometimes  both.  But  in  these  cases  the  call  was  not  so 
likely  to  end  in  a  walk.  In  the  main  they  walked  alone.  John 
knew  New  York.  He  showed  her  all  kinds  of  out-of-the-way 
spots.  He  had  associated  much  with  artists  and,  as  far  as 
the  layman  may,  had  absorbed  the  artist's  point  of  view.  There 
were  bits  that  his  memory  had  hoarded  from  all  over  New  York; 
and  for  those  bits  he  demanded  special  hours;  old  doorways; 
churches;  vine-hung  yards;  the  river  from  certain  bridge  eyries; 
the  harbour  from  certain  tall  buildings;  the  palisades  and  the 
water-front.  There  were  places  in  Europe  of  which  many  of  these 
things  reminded  him ;  and  he  told  Hester  about  them  as  she  looked 
at  the  New  York  variants.  Occasionally,  he  took  her  to  a  lecture, 
a  Socialist  Local,  an  I.  W.  W.  meeting.  But  Hester  always 
emerged  from  revolutionary  discussion  in  a  state  of  mind  so  baf 
fled  that  for  days  afterwards  she  met  him  with  lists  of  questions 
which  had  developed  in  her  mind.  John  prescribed  a  course  of 
reading  for  her,  sent  her  some  of  these  books,  procured  others  from 
the  Library.  She  read  everything  he  suggested,  read  with  a  dogged 
persistence  but  with  great  difficulty  of  comprehension.  She  com 
plained  always  that  she  could  not  connect  that  kind  of  theory  with 
life.  Moral  precept  she  could  translate  into  action;  but  social 
vision  seemed  to  hang  undetached  in  sidereal  space. 

All  this,  though  John  tried  to  defer  to  her  shyness,  meant  social 
contact,  for  John's  acquaintance  widened  wherever  it  touched  re 
bellion.  He  was  always  introducing  her  to  people  who,  Hester  after 
wards  said,  might  for  the  strangeness  of  their  vocabulary  have 
come  from  Mars.  On  the  street,  they  ran  into  friends  of  earlier 
and  more  simple  days.  Here  it  would  be  a  little  East  Side  Jewess 
whom  he  had  met  in  a  college  settlement  and  who  plunged,  in 


354  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

fluent  thickly-accented  English,  into  rapid  joyous  reminiscences  of 
the  amateur  plays  in  which  they  had  acted.  There  it  would  be  a 
young  Irish- American  lad  with  whom  he  had  boxed  at  the  gym 
nasium  and  who  told  him  proudly  of  recent  feats  in  swimming  and 
running.  Oftenest  of  all  perhaps  they  were  elderly  people,  an  ashy 
furtive  spinster,  a  widow,  equally  colourless,  shabby  middle-aged 
men  with  failure  written  all  over  them  whom  he  had  met  in  some 
hole-in-the-corner  boarding-house.  In  one  neighbourhood  border 
ing  on  lower  Second  Avenue,  he  introduced  her  to  the  policeman 
on  the  beat,  the  postman,  the  corner  grocer,  the  delicatessen-keeper, 
the  butcher,  the  baker,  the  bootblack,  and  the  fruit  man.  He  had 
lived  in  that  neighbourhood  for  several  years  and  had  succeeded 
in  getting  acquainted  with  everybody  who  touched  his  life.  He 
had  gone  to  their  weddings,  their  christenings,  and  their  funerals. 
Later  he  had  described  this  experience  in  an  article  called  "  Village 
Life  in  Manhattan,"  and  at  Hester's  request  he  dug  up  a  copy  from 
among  his  papers.  Sometimes  he  would  call  011  her  for  three  days 
in  succession.  Then  again  she  would  not  see  him  for  a  week. 
Their  conversation  always  began  with  a  consideration  of  their 
common  responsibility — Edith.  Each  day  Hester  grew  more  and 
more  concerned  over  Edith's  condition.  John  had  already,  he 
told  Hester,  begun  the  long  campaign  of  persuasion  to  which 
Edith  always  had  to  be  subjected  before  she  would  consult  a 
physician. 

"  Everybody  who  knows  her  loves  Edith,"  Hester  remarked  once, 
"  but  I  think  you  and  I  love  her  most." 

John  was  silent  for  a  moment.  "  Of  course  I'd  do  anything  for 
her,"  he  said  finally. 

But  their  conversation  inevitably  drew  away  from  this  common 
interest,  wandered  far  afield.  It  travelled  in  comment  to  the 
places  they  had  come  to  see;  it  darted  abruptly  to  revelations  of 
personal  preferences;  it  went  back  to  John's  month  in  Shayneford 
which  they  admitted  to  each  other  was  an  oasis  in  hard  living; 
it  hovered  over  the  interval  of  their  separation ;  it  returned  to  the 
present.  It  grew  more  and  more  intimate  as  the  weeks  went  by. 
Hester  soon  formed  the  habit  of  telling  John  all  the  simple 
events  of  her  New  York  life;  her  struggles  with  metropolitan 
marketing,  her  observations  on  her  neighbours  in  the  model  tene 
ment.  John  encouraged  these  confidences  as  he  encouraged  any 
narration  which  tended  to  increase  Hester's  developing  powers  of 
articulateness.  Besides,  he  was  always  peculiarly  interested  in  ex 
periences  of  value  from  the  sociological  aspect. 


CHAPTER  XIX 

RIPLEY  came  occasionally.  But  his  calls  were  rare.  Busy  as 
John  was,  Ripley  was  busier.  They  talked  at  great  length;  for 
the  easiest  talking  Hester  did  was  with  Ripley.  He  had  a  detach 
ment  from  personal  concerns  which  unloosed  her  confidence. 
And  he  listened  with  as  much  interest  as  understanding  and 
sympathy.  Ripley,  whether  for  fear  of  boring  people  or  because 
it  pained  him,  never  spoke  of  his  own  work.  And  Hester,  who 
rarely  asked  questions,  made  no  reference  to  it.  One  day  he 
had  suggested  an  outdoors  expedition.  They  took  the  subway 
to  the  water's  edge;  walked  across  Brooklyn  Bridge  and  back. 
On  the  bridge,  they  stopped  and  stood  for  a  long  while  gazing 
on  the  shuffling  scene  below,  a  composite  of  watercraft — big, 
broad-beamed,  waddling  ferries,  tiny,  puffing,  churning  tugs, 
slim,  graceful,  darting  motor-boats,  and  in  their  midst  a  great, 
ocean-going  freighter  putting  uncertainly  out  from  her  dock.  A 
tugboat  caught  this  latter,  manoeuvred  it  so  that  finally  it 
steamed  calmly  and  slowly  straight  down  the  river. 

Ripley's  eyes  fastened  on  the  steamer.  His  gaze  grew  absent, 
as  he  appeared  to  follow  a  train  of  thought  which  utterly  ignored 
Hester.  "It's  very  strange,"  he  said  after  a  time,  "how  little 
things  influence  big  things,  from  what  tiny  causes  come  what 
seem  to  us  big  results.  Look  at  that  tug.  It  gave  that  great  ship 
wobbling  uncertainly  at  the  dock  a  little  poke — and  now  there 
she  goes  swinging  out  of  the  harbour  as  sure  of  herself  as  can  be. 
Something  like  that  happened  to  me  once."  He  broke  off,  followed 
the  liner  and  tug  with  an  amused  smile.  Hester  did  not  break  the 
spell  by  a  word,  scarcely  a  breath.  He  went  on.  "  You  see  I 
hadn't  any  idea  that  I  was  going  to  be  a  reformer.  I  thought  I 
was  going  to  be  a  painter.  My  father  was  a  painter  and  a 
good  one.  My  mother,  before  her  marriage,  had  been  a  musician 
and  a  good  one.  I  have  guessed  that  she  was  a  better  musician 
than  my  father  was  painter.  Anyway  she  gave  up  all  ambition 
when  she  married,  in  the  way  women  do.  She  proved  a  big  stimu 
lating,  enriching,  adjuvant  force  in  my  father's  career.  She  was 
a  wonder.  I  was  the  oldest  child.  All  children  are  imitative  and 
I  began  to  paint  virtually  as  soon  as  I  could  handle  a  paint-brush. 
My  people  accepted  this  imitativeness  as  inherited  talent,  as  people 

355 


356  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

do.  It  was  always  taken  for  granted  that  I  should  be  a  painter. 
People  are  just  beginning  nowadays  to  try  to  discover  some 
divining-rod  by  which  they  shall  determine  the  real  bent  of  a 
child's  abilities.  But  then  nobody  thought  of  anything  like  that. 
Either  they  planned  the  child's  career  carefully  themselves,  or 
left  it  to  chance.  And  so  I  thought  I  was  going  to  be  a  painter 
just  as  they  did.  Of  course  I  got  plenty  of  instruction  at  home 
— and  good  instruction.  The  first  fifteen  years  of  my  life,  we 
wandered  everywhere.  Then  we  went  back  to  the  old  family  place 
in  Massachusetts.  They  sent  me  to  Harvard,"  Ripley  smiled 
retrospectively.  "  Harvard  didn't  hurt  me  so  much  as  it  might. 
It  rolled  off.  But  I  was  just  planning  to  go  to  Paris  for  a  year's 
work  at  the  Louvre,  when  I  went  to  a  little  manufacturing  town 
in  New  England  to  visit  a  friend.  While  I  was  there,  there 
occurred  a — what  is  it  they  always  call  it — the  usual  crime 
against  women." 

He  paused  and  contemplated  the  water  darkling  now  towards 
sunset  and  with  lights  winking  here  and  there  along  the  shores. 

"  Only  this  wasn't  the  usual  crime  of  a  black  man  against  a 
white  woman.  It  was  the  crime  of  a  white  man  against  a  black 
girl.  I  saw  her  afterwards — a  little  slender  terrified  thing,  quite 
helpless.  Here's  where  the  fable  of  the  tug  and  the  ocean-liner 
comes  in.  That  incident  gave  me  the  impetus  that  nothing 
else  could.  It  changed  my  life.  It  made  a  different  creature  of 
me.  I  have  never  had  the  same  kind  of  mind  since.  All  that 
superimposed  art-ambition,  all  that  adventitious  art-atmosphere 
fell  from  me  as  completely  as  though  it  had  never  been.  Of 
course  it  had  never  been  in  any  real  sense.  I  came  home,  told  my 
people  what  I  was  going  to  do,  and  fought  it  through.  I  came 
out  victor.  I  had  some  money  of  my  own.  I  came  to  New  York 
and  started  The  Negro  Woman.  That  was  about  sixteen  years 
ago.  I've  been  at  it  ever  since.  It  was  strange  how  it  happened, 
wasn't  it?" 

"  Yes,"  Hester  agreed.  "  Very,  very  strange ! "  she  mused. 
"  That's  how  you  broke  through,"  she  said  after  a  while. 

"What  do  you  mean — broke  through?"  Eipley  asked. 

"  Broke  through  into  life.  Perhaps  we're  all  like  that — sheathed 
about  by  an  artificial  stratum  of  living  conditions.  It  must  have 
been  very  hard  for  you  though,  especially  at  first.  And  the 
obstacles  must  many  of  them  have  been  of  a  kind  you  couldn't 
foresee  or  anticipate." 

"  Yes,  it  was  like  that,"  Ripley  agreed.  "  But  it  had  its 
compensations.  I've  met  many  remarkable  coloured  people.  If 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  357 

~L  ever  introduced  white  people  to  them,  I  would  introduce  you. 
But  it  so  often  leads  to  complications  that  I  make  it  a  rule 
not  to  do  it." 

He  went  on  to  tell  her  about  The  Negro  Woman,  a  long 
story  of  an  uphill  fight  and  a  steady  growth  in  standing  and 
influence.  He  described  some  of  the  handicaps  which  life  in  a 
large  city  presents  to  black  people;  segregation;  high  rents  for 
property  never  repaired;  inadequate  police  protection;  robberies 
and  extortions  of  one  kind  or  another  all  along  the  line  of  living. 
He  outlined  his  schemes  for  changing  this. 

"  I've  talked  a  lot  about  myself  this  afternoon,"  he  said  as 
they  emerged  from  the  subway.  "  Now  tell  me  what  New  York 
is  doing  for  you." 

"  It's  entertaining  me,"  Hester  declared,  "  wonderfully.  But 
it's  frightening  me  terribly." 

"  You'll  get  over  that,"  Ripley  prophesied  authoritatively. 

At  the  door,  he  held  out  his  hand.  Hester  placed  her  hand  on 
his  palm. 

"Do  you  know,  Hester,"  he  said  suddenly,  "you  don't  know 
how  to  shake  hands.  All  you  do  is  just  to  place  your  fingers  in 
mine.  It's  exactly  as  though  you  handed  me  an  empty  glove. 
Of  course  nobody  shakes  hands  in  any  literal  sense  nowadays. 
But  you  should  give  a  hearty  hand-clasp.  Let's  try  it  again. 
Now  remember  this  time  to  take  my  hand  as  well  as  to  give  me 
yours." 

He  held  out  his  hand  again. 

Hester,  in  what  was  palpably  an  agony  of  embarrassment, 
seized  it  blindly. 

"  No,  that  won't  do.  Scarcely  any  better  than  before.  Re 
member,  Hester,  I  taught  you  to  dance.  Come !  once  more !  " 

Again  he  reached  his  hand  for  hers. 

"  A  little  better  this  time,"  he  said  encouragingly.  "  But  you 
can  beat  that.  Now  try  again !  " 

Again  and  again,  Hester  gave  him  her  hand.  Her  embar 
rassment  wore  off,  gradually;  she  began  after  a  while  to  take  an 
amused  enjoyment  in  the  sport.  She  succeeded  finally  in  grasping 
Ripley's  hand  with  a  quick,  firm  pressure. 

"  That  was  good — that  last  one !  "  Ripley  approved.  "  And  I 
want  you  to  practise  hand-shaking  on  everybody,  Hester.  When 
I  see  you  again,  if  there  isn't  a  permanent  improvement,  I'll 
start  all  over  again.  Good  night." 

Hester  found  the  apartment  empty.  Later,  when  Southward's 
key  clicked  in  the  latch,  she  arose  and  advanced,  hand  out. 


358  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Mechanically  Southward  placed  her  hand  in  Hester's.  "  What's 
the  idea?" 

"  Ripley's  been  giving  me  a  lesson  in  hand-shaking,"  Hester  ex 
plained.  "  He  says  I  don't  do  it  right." 

"You  don't,"  Southward  agreed  promptly.     "You  never  have. 

"Why  didn't  you  tell  me?" 

"  It  never  occurred  to  me," 

"  Well,  how  about  this  ? "  Hester  inquired  with  one  of  her  rare 
flashes-  of  mischief. 

Southward  pulled  her  hand  away;  shook  it. 

"  That  was  a  wonder.     Keep  it  up  along  those  lines." 

At  intervals  all  that  evening,  Hester  would  advance  suddenly 
on  Southward;  insist  on  shaking  hands.  Every  day  for  a  while, 
she  shook  hands  before  going  to  bed  and  on  rising  in  the  morning. 

The  next  time  she  saw  Ripley,  who  had  apparently  forgotten 
his  lesson  in  the  pleasure  of  meeting,  she  drew  from  him  a  sur 
prised,  "  Great  Scott,  Hester  1 "  And  then  a  quick  smile  of  con 
gratulation. 


CHAPTER  XX 

HESTER  came  to  know  a  few  of  her  neighbours  in  the  model 
tenement.  In  the  next  apartment  were  two  girls,  a  milliner  and  a 
dressmaker.  The  milliner,  Maud  Morpeth,  was  a  Southerner, 
a  little,  round,  curly-headed  girl  whose  bright  eyes  peered  out 
over  dimples  set  high  up  on  her  cheek-bones  and  through  little 
tangly,  wavy  strands  of  hair  always  falling  over  her  forehead. 
The  dressmaker  was  a  Westerner,  Ellen  Day;  a  face  delicately 
chiselled  and  faintly  coloured,  lost  in  an  eternal  reverie;  a  figure 
slimly  tall  and  softly  curved,  bent  in  a  perpetual  droop. 

These  two  girls  had  met  in  a  boarding-house,  had  become  fast 
friends  and,  deciding  to  set  themselves  up  in  business,  had  entered 
into  a  scheme  of  co-operative  housekeeping  that  made  for  a 
mutual  economy  of  time  and  money.  Miss  Morpeth  had  a  tiny 
shop  on  Fourth  Avenue.  "  But  you  watch  me,"  she  warned  Hester 
with  a  snap  of  her  eyes  that  even  a  thick  wad  of  falling  curls 
could  not  muffle,  "  Ah'm,  saving  money,  honey.  Pretty  soon 
Ah'll  move  into  a  neighbourhood  nearer  the  Avenue;  then  on 
one  of  the  side  streets  just  off;  then  to  the  Avenue  itself.  Ah 
have  the  shop  all  planned  out — black  and  white  and  green  with 
boxes  of  a  big  black  and  white  plaid  with  green  cords  and  my 
name  MAUD  written  in  gold  across  them.  Then  Ah'll  begin  to 
go  every  summer  to  Paris,  honey,  and  my  fortune  will  be  made." 

Miss  Day's  program  was  not  so  definitely  made  out,  although 
she  was  no  less  ambitious  than  her  companion.  But  whereas 
Miss  Morpeth  was  a  business  woman,  she  was  an  artist.  The  idea 
for  gowns  came  to  her,  as  creative  ideas  often  come  to  artists, 
in  lightning  flashes,  leaving  her  giddy  with  a  sense  of  achieved 
beauty.  Many  of  her  leisure  moments  were  spent  in  translating 
these  ideas  by  means  of  sketches,  amusingly  amateur,  into  a  note 
book.  Personality  made  a  strong  impression  on  her;  often  set 
the  sartorial  wheels  to  moving.  The  sketch-book  displayed  pages 
of  gowns  designed  for  certain  women  stars  of  the  theatrical  world 
whose  beauty  inspired  her.  She  was  always  showing  Southward 
the  extraordinary  creations  in  which  she  would  have  liked  to 
clothe  her.  And  a  single  glimpse  of  Azile,  one  afternoon,  threw 
her  into  a  very  orgy  of  invention. 

359 


360  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Beyond  them  lived  a  girl  stenographer,  Amy  Egan,  a  slender, 
mouse-coloured  nondescript  who,  shy  enough  at  first,  soon  reached 
the  point  where  to  Hester  she  chattered  of  all  the  details  of  her 
life;  the  home,  too  crowded  with  children,  in  the  little  Middle 
Western  town;  the  sixteen-year-old  sister,  who  was  a  beauty  and 
stage-struck,  and  determined  to  leave  school  in  order  to  go  on  the 
stage;  the  huge,  clean,  massively-furnished  room  at  the  top  of  a 
downtown  skyscraper  where  she  worked;  her  big  desk  beside  a 
window  from  which  she  saw  the  ships  passing  back  and  forth  in 
the  harbour;  the  crowd  of  girls  who  lunched  together  every 
Thursday  in  a  business  man's  cafe;  the  little  stern,  powerful 
captain-of-industry  from  whom  she  took  dictation;  how  she  was 
studying  French  in  order  to  take  care  of  his  French  corre 
spondence. 

"  All  those  girls  are  so  happy  in  their  careers,"  Hester  told 
John.  "  I  suppose  it's  because  it's  something  they're  making 
for  themselves.  It  makes  teaching  seem  so  weak  and  futile,  some 
how.  And  I'm  considered  a  pretty  good  teacher." 

One  afternoon  there  came  a  knock,  tiny  and  quick,  on  the 
door.  Hester  opened  it.  On  the  threshold  stood  an  old  lady  in  a 
black  gown  of  a  soft  rustleless  silk,  black  lace  mitts,  a  kerchief 
and  a  close  cap  of  broad-hemmed  muslin.  She  was  little  and 
frail  and  white,  so  transparent  that  the  light  of  her  spirit  seemed 
to  shine  through  her  neatly-chiselled  face  in  a  continuous  pour. 

"  Good  afternoon,  my  dear,"  she  chirped  in  a  little  voice,  sur 
prisingly  clear.  "  I  heard  there  were  two  girls  from  Massachu 
setts  living  downstairs  and  I  couldn't  rest  until  I'd  come  down  to 
see  you.  My  name  is  Edgerley — Mrs.  Edgerley.  I'm  a  Massachu 
setts  woman  myself  and  although  I  haven't  lived  in  Warrentown 
for  years,  I  always  like  to  talk  with  Massachusetts  folks.  There's 
an  awful  lot  of  culture  in  them  most  generally.  Where  do  you 
come  from,  my  dear  ?  " 

Hester  answered  this  question  and  a  dozen  others  which  fol 
lowed  in  its  wake.  "  I'm  sorry  Miss  Drake  isn't  here,"  she  con 
cluded,  "  but  I  expect  her  back  any  moment." 

"  I  hope  she"ll  come,"  Mrs.  Edgerley  said,  "  because  there's 
something  I  want  to  talk  to  both  of  you  about.  My  land,  how 
pretty  you've  made  it  here.  Let  me  see,  seems  to  me  your  kitchen 
is  larger  than  ours.  I  don't  know  though — we  have  a  jog  over 
there.  'Pears  to  me  they  ain't  quite  the  same  shape." 

Hester  made  tea  and  sandwiches  and  while  they  were  in  the 
midst  of  this  Southward  entered.  She  said  that  she  would  have 
to  leave  immediately.  But  nevertheless,  she  sat  down  and  talked 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  361 

with  their  guest.  Only  three  species  of  creatures  melted  South 
ward's  youthful  hardness — old  people,  sick  people,  and  dogs.  Now 
she  listened  with  her  most  appreciative  glimmer  to  the  rambling 
monologue  which  Mrs.  Edgerley  emitted. 

She  was  over  eighty  years  old;  her  young  womanhood  had 
seen  the  Civil  War.  She  was  a  niece  of  the  famous  Maria  Jack 
son  Tate,  one  of  that  group  of  pioneer  suffragists  who  came  into 
prominence  just  after  the  Civil  War.  Susan  Anthony,  Elizabeth 
Stanton,  Lucy  Stone,  Mary  Livermore,  John  J.  Whittier,  William 
Lloyd  Garrison  were  some  of  the  names  which  glanced  in  and 
out  of  her  narrative. 

"  Once  auntie  let  me  go  with  her  on  a  suffrage  trip  she  took 
with  Susan  and  Mary  and  William,"  she  said.  "  Their  meetings 
were  most  all  of  them  held  in  little  towns.  Woman  suffrage  was 
awful  unpopular  in  those  days.  Of  course  they'd  advertise  the 
meeting  as  good  as  they  could,  but  they  couldn't  do  much  be 
cause  they  didn't  have  enough  money.  The  hall  would  fill  up 
with  the  most  disrespectful  kind  of  crowd,  rowdies  and  roughs  and 
riff-raff  of  all  description.  Often  they'd  begin  to  hoot  and  whistle 
and  make  catcalls  and  yell  out  the  most  insulting  things.  Some 
times  we'd  be  afraid  there  was  going  to  be  a  riot.  Those  times 
we'd  allus  send  out  Mary  to  quiet  them.  There  was  something 
about  Mary — she  was  kinder,  well,  majestic  I  suppose  you'd  call 
it.  Anyway,  she'd  jest  walk  straight  out  to  the  middle  of  the 
platform  and  stand  there  as  quiet  as  a  statue — great,  tall, 
handsome  woman  she  was — and  look  that  audience  in  the  eye. 
She'd  start  at  one  side  and  jess  sweep  over  them  to  the  other  side, 
staring  hard  at  them  all.  Well,  you'd  oughter  have  seen  it.  All 
that  noise  would  die  down  till  you  could  hear  the  big  clock  tick 
ing  at  the  far  end  of  the  hall.  She  was  a  wonderful  woman. 
Oh,  but  land,  they  all  were!  I  never  saw  such  women.  There 
are  lots  of  able  women  in  the  movement  now — young  and  hand 
some  and  beautifully  dressed  and  grand  talkers — but  there  aren't 
none  like  those  early  ones — the  Big  Four,  I  used  to  call  them. 
Oh,  and  my  sakes,  how  they  used  to  pinch  and  save  to  make  the 
money  go  as  far  as  it  could.  When  I  see  them  spending  money 
like  water  now,  I  think  of  those  days  when  printing  a  program 
was  a  very  important  item.  Why,  last  year,  my  daughter  took 
me  to  a  suffrage  convention  down  South  and  a  rich  lady  enter 
tained  all  the  delegates  to  lunch.  She  had  a  great  big  house 
with  servants  in  livery.  How  many  there  were  I  don't  know.  I 
tried  to  keep  track  of  them,  but  I  couldn't.  And  we  ate  our 
luncheon  off  of  gold  plate.  And  champagne — why  champagne 


362  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

flowed  like  water.  Oh,  you  don't  know  how  I  wished  that  Susan 
and  auntie  had  been  there  to  see  it." 

She  stopped  to  oversee  the  pouring  of  another  cup  of  tea. 
"  A  little  hot  water,  if  you  please,  Miss  Crowell — that  tea's  kinder 
pale,  but  it  draws  stronger  than  it  looks.  Thank  you.  What  nice 
little  sandwiches!  I  do  like  sandwiches.  I  allus  feel  when  I 
eat  them  the  way  I  did  when  I  was  a  little  girl  and  went  off  on 
picnics.  I  often  think  of  Susan  in  these  days.  Susan  was  such 
a  lovely  character.  Nobody  but  those  who  lived  with  her  knew 
jest  how  lovely  she  was.  My  aunt  told  me  once  that  Susan  said 
to  her,  '  Maria,  folks  are  always  blaming  me  in  their  hearts  be 
cause  I've  never  married  and  brought  up  a  family.  They  think 
I'm  one  of  those  unsexed  women  who  don't  care  anything  about 
such  things.  Why,  Maria,  I'd  like  to  have  a  family  and  children 
as  much  as  any  other  woman — I'd  lore  it.  But  I've  never  had  the 
time.'  And  that's  jest  the  way  she  was — a  true  devoted  creature, 
giving  up  everything,  even  her  chance  of  happiness,  to  the  cause. 
Well,  I  wish  she  could  come  back  now  and  see  how  the  little  seed 
she  dropped  has  sprouted  and  grown  into  a  big  tree.  If  she  could 
only  see  what  these  New  York  women  do.  My  land,  it's  wonder 
ful  in  campaign  times;  hundreds  of  outdoor  meetings  as  well  as 
indoor  meetings ;  bazaars  and  benefits  and  addresses  in  the  theatre 
and  suffrage  hikes  and  parades.  You'd  think  they  had  all  the 
money  in  the  world.  Take  my  daughter — she's  Mrs.  Amos  Fan- 
shawe,"  she  dropped  in  proud  parenthesis.  "  She's  president  of 
this  Assembly  District.  They  have  a  place  over  in  Long  Island 
where  they  keep  the  children.  But  she's  hired  two  apartments 
here,  one  to  live  in,  and  one  to  do  the  Assembly  business  in.  We 
spend  most  of  the  week  here;  then  we  go  home  over  Sundays. 
Amos,  my  son-in-law,  is  jest  as  interested  as  she  is.  He  helps 
her  all  he  can  and  puts  up  with  living  in  these  small  rooms 
without  a  murmur.  I  declare  I  think  every  day  I  ought  to  be 
the  most  grateful  woman  in  the  world  that  I've  lived  to  see  these 
times." 

The  two  girls  did  little  else  but  drop  exclamatory  comments 
until,  through  sheer  lack  of  breath,  Mrs.  Edgerley  ran  down. 
But  they  were  not  bored.  Hester's  face  was  soft  with  sympathetic 
interest;  and  Southward's  mischievous  smile  still  rippled  her 
red  lips. 

"Well,  I  hate  to  drag  myself  away,"  Southward  averred,  "but 
I've  got  to." 

"  Don't  go  for  a  minute,"  Mrs.  Edgerley  begged.  "  My  land, 
I'd  almost  forgotten  that  I'd  come  here  on  business  as  well  a& 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  363 

pleasure."  She  fumbled  in  the  reticule  she  carried.  Among  the 
mass  of  documents  which  would  have  eluded  any  other  fingers  less 
quick  and  slim,  she  pulled  out  some  yellow  papers.  "  I  want  you 
to  sign  these  pledges,  if  you  will,  that  you'll  march  in  the  parade 
next  spring." 

"  I'll  march,"  Southward  said,  "  I've  already  signed  one  of  the 
slips.  We're  both  suffragists.  I  sell  the  Equal  Franchise  two 
afternoons  every  week.  Miss  Crowell  hasn't  signed  a  slip  yet. 
I  can't  make  her.  You  must  get  after  her." 

"  I'll  do  that,"  solemnly  vowed  Mrs.  Edgerley,  shaking  her 
head  with  a  sage  expression.  "I'll  camp  right  on  her  trail  from 
now  on." 

But  apparently  she  had  had  enough  suffrage  for  the  afternoon. 
She  did  not  mention  the  subject  again  during  her  call.  Indeed 
she  seemed  more  interested  in  Southward.  "  Isn't  she  a  hand 
some  creature  ? "  she  said.  "  I  admire  to  look  at  her.  She's  what 
I  call  a  perfect  beauty  without  paint  or  whitewash." 

Mrs.  Edgerley  was  true  to  her  word.  She  came  often  to  the 
apartment  and  she  wooed  the  unresponsive  Hester  with  every 
argument  in  her  old-time  panoply.  Hester  enjoyed  her  visits 
quite  as  much  as  Southward,  for  though  the  little  old  lady's  nar 
rative  often  rambled,  it  was  always  alive.  Southward  always  gave 
Mrs.  Edgerley  what  late  information  in  regard  to  the  suffrage 
movement  she  had  in  the  meantime  gleaned.  Mrs.  Edgerley  lis 
tened  avidly,  dropping  keen  caustic  comment  all  along  the  route. 

One  day  Mrs.  Edgerley  brought  her  daughter — a  big,  handsome, 
energetic-looking,  middle-aged  blonde.  Mrs.  Fanshawe  tried  her 
persuasive  powers  on  Hester,  but  all  to  no  purpose.  "  I'm  not 
going  to  give  you  up  yet,  Miss  Crowell,"  she  said  as  she  left. 
"  It's  nonsense  you're  not  marching  as  long  as  you're  convinced. 
I  give  you  my  word  that  after  half  a  block  you  won't  think  of 
yourself.  You'll  be  too  interested  in  what's  going  on  round  about 
you." 

John  listened  with  his  accustomed  sympathy,  his  quiet  under 
standing,  his  deferential  air  of  enjoyment,  to  Hester's  accounts  of 
these  people.  In  every  possible  way,  by  question  and  comment 
and  direct  appeal,  he  encouraged  her  to  develop  social  relation; 
to  tell  him  the  result  of  these  pursuits. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

THERE  were  many  afternoons  and  evenings  when  Hester  was 
alone,  however.  But  she  rarely  seemed  to  be  idle.  She  read  and 
wrote  letters;  she  darned  and  cooked.  When  these  occupations 
gave  out,  she  sat  for  long  intervals  at  the  window,  her  hands 
clasped  in  her  lap,  gazing  at  a  street  scene  which  from  early 
morning  to  late  dusk  produced  kaleidoscopic  colour  and  bewilder 
ing  clatter.  But  even  then  she  was  mentally  busy.  That  was 
apparent  from  her  expression,  wondering  sometimes,  or  perplexed ; 
often  desperately  harried,  despairing,  and  frightened.  When 
these  reflections  got  beyond  her,  a  quick  jump  to  her  feet,  a 
flurried  rush  to  her  hat  and  coat,  would  carry  her  on  one  of  her 
long  solitary  walks.  Sometimes  these  strolls  followed  in  the  wake 
of  an  exploring  expedition  that  she  had  already  made  with  John. 
Then  she  gazed  hard  at  everything  he  had  already  pointed  out  to 
her,  gazed  as  though  trying  to  grave  it  on  her  memory  forever. 

These  walks  came  as  often  in  the  evening  as  the  afternoon. 
Then  as  though  subconsciously  attracted  by  the  glare,  she  made 
for  Broadway;  walked  slowly  through  the  rushing  lights  to 
Forty-second  Street,  then  east  and  back  down  the  silent 
dark  Avenue,  home.  On  Broadway,  she  consciously  looked  about 
her,  as  though  trying  to  beat  off  that  band  of  frantic  reflections 
by  tying  her  observation  to  definite  things.  But  almost  in 
variably  in  crossing  to  the  Avenue,  her  head  would  begin  to 
sink  and  by  the  time  she  reached  the  deserted  purlieus  of  the 
most  luxurious  shopping  area  in  the  city,  she  would  be  lost  in 
meditation.  One  night  as  she  was  walking  thus,  a  voice  sud 
denly  called. 

"  Well,  look  who's  here !  Hester  Crowell !  Of  all  things !  Can 
you  tie  it  ?  " 

Hester  turned  sharply.  "Well,  Josie  Caldwell!  Oh,  I  am 
glad  to  see  you !  How  are  you,  Josie  ? " 

"  Fine  and  dandy  I  Say,  you're  looking  pretty  slick  yourself, 
Hester.  Come  on  and  walk  a  little  way  with  me,  will  you  ?  I'll 
go  as  far  as  the  Avenue.  How  long  have  you  been  here  and 
how  long  are  you  on  for?  And  how's  everything  going  in 
Shayneford?" 

"I've  been  here  five  months.  Southward  and  I  are  keeping 

864 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  365 

house  here  together.  We  have  a  little  model  tenement  on  the  East 
Side.  I  broke  down  with  a  sort  of  nervous  prostration  last  fall 
and  the  doctor  said  I  must  have  a  complete  change.  Southward 
wanted  to  live  in  New  York  for  a  winter,  so  we  came  together.  I 
never  saw  you  looking  better,  Josie." 

Josie  was  a  small  slim  girl — from  her  very  smallness  and 
slimness  offering  an  effect  of  young  girlishness  that  her  face, 
carefully  examined,  did  not  re-enforce.  She  was  neat-featured, 
piquant.  All  her  efforts  in  dressing  were  palpably  directed  to 
accentuate  that  piquancy;  the  suit  of  black-and-white  broad 
cloth,  the  ruff  of  black-and-white  malines,  not  tied  but  falling 
away  from  the  cut-out  V  of  her  gown;  the  ruffles  of  delicate  lace 
in  her  elbow  sleeves;  the  earrings  of  jet  and  crystal;  the  bunch 
of  fresh  violets;  the  gaily-buckled  low  shoes  and  above  all  the 
hat  faced  with  rose-coloured  satin,  whose  glow  tried  to  correct 
the  sharpness  of  her  eyes. 

"  I'm  feeling  swell,"  admitted  Josie.  "  It's  a  good  thing  you're 
on  here,  Hester.  I  can  see  what  it's  done  for  you.  I  should 
think  you'd  be  dead,  teaching  brats  all  these  years.  How  do  you 
like  our  fair  city?  " 

"  I'm  having  a  wonderful  time,  Josie.  There's  only  one  out 
about  it.  I've  got  to  go  back  sometime." 

"  The  answer  to  that,"  Josie  advised,  "  is  never  to  go  back. 
I'd  die  in  that  dead  little  burg.  Oh,  say,  what's  this  I  read  about 
Gert  Beebe.  You  could  have  knocked  me  down  with  a  feather 
when  I  saw  she'd  married  Buster  Welch." 

"  I  don't  know  any  more  about  it  than  you  do,"  Hester  said. 
"  I  saw  it  in  the  paper ;  then  mother  wrote  how  surprised  every 
body  in  Shayneford  was." 

"  I  suppose  he  was  the  father  of  that  brat  ? " 

"  I  suppose  he  was." 

"  Well,  of  all  things !  "  Josie  laughed  harshly.  "  I'm  awful 
glad  for  Gert,"  she  added  in  another  moment.  "And  Buster's 
a  good,  clean,  square  boy." 

"  Do  you  know  him  ? "  Hester  asked. 

"  No,  but  I've  heard  a  lot  of  talk  about  him.  He  fights  clean 
as  a  whistle  and  never  lays  down.  He  keeps  away  from  the 
white  lights  too.  Oh,  he's  a  good,  straight  farmer-kid  yet.  South 
ward  having  a  good  time  ? " 

"  Yes,  oh,  yes." 

"  I  suppose  every  man  that  sees  her  gets  stuck  on  her  the 
way  they  always  did.  I  never  saw  such  a  girl  as  Southward. 
Eats  them  alive." 


366  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  Yes,   Southward's  very  attractive.     Everybody  likes  her." 

"  I've  always  liked  her,"  Josie  stated.  "  I  like  to  see  a  girl  hand 
it  to  men.  When  I  was  in  school,  I  used  to  think  I'd  rather  be 
Southward  Drake  than  anybody  I'd  ever  seen." 

"  Josephine !  Josephine !  "  a  voice  called.  A  taxi  that  had 
come  churning  up  behind  them  stopped  at  the  curb.  Josie  turned 
about.  The  taxi-door  opened  and  a  girl  leaped  out.  "  Wait 
for  me  1  "  she  said.  She  stopped  to  pay  the  driver.  Josie  halted 
for  what  was  plainly  an  irresolute  second.  However  she  waited. 
And  when  the  girl  turned  she  said,  "  I'd  like  you  to  know  my 
friend,  Miss  Crowell,  Violet.  Miss  Wilson,  Hester.  Miss 
Crowell's  a  friend  of  mine  from  Shayneford,  Violet,"  she  ex 
plained.  She  seemed  to  lay  a  meaningful  stress  on  the  word 
Shayneford. 

"  Glad  to  know  you,  Miss  Crowell,"  Violet  said. 

The  two  girls  shook  hands. 

Violet  was  a  very  different  type  from  Josie.  Round,  soft, 
meltingly  featured,  radiantly  blond,  she  looked  as  though  she 
were  made  of  gauze,  not  flesh.  She  was  noticeably  dressed  in 
pale  blue  and  white.  Her  rather  soiled  tawdriness  contrasted  with 
Josie's  crisp  immaculateness. 

"I  saw  you,  Jo,  as  I  came  along,"  Miss  Wilson  explained. 
"And  I  realised  that  you  were  late  at  the — the  hall — for  the 
same  reason  I  am.  Your  watch  is  wrong.  I  set  mine  by  it  last 
night." 

"  That  so  ? "  Josie  asked.  She  consulted  a  little  gold  bracelet 
watch.  "  What  time  are  you  ? " 

Violet  glanced  at  her  watch,  also  of  gold  but  set  with  blue 
enamel.  "  Quarter-past  nine." 

"  That's  right.  I'm  quarter  to."  With  an  expert  movement, 
Josie  set  her  watch  right.  "  Well,  I  must  be  going,  Hester.  I 
wish  I  could  see  you  again." 

"  Can't  you  come  to  see  me  ? "  Hester  asked.  "  I'd  love  to  have 
you." 

"  Sure  I  can.  Where  do  you  live  ?  What's  your  phone  number  ? 
I'd  like  to  come  sometime  when  you're  alone  ? "  She  took  a  little 
leather  book  from  her  wrist-bag. 

Hester  supplied  her  with  the  necessary  data.  "I  shall  be 
glad  to  see  you  any  time,  Josie.  I'm  indoors  a  great  deal.  And 
of  course  if  you  telephone,  I'll  be  sure  to  be  there.  I'd  be  pleased 
to  have  you  bring  Miss  Wilson  if  she  cares  to  come." 

"  All  right,"  Jo  said  in  a  business-like  way.  Then,  "  Thanks ! " 
Miss  Wilson  supplemented  her. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  367 

"Who  do  you  suppose  I  met  on  the  street  to-night,  South 
ward  ? "  Hester  said  at  midnight  when  Southward  came  in. 

"  I  couldn't  guess  in  a  million  years,"  Southward  declared. 
"Who?" 

"  Josie  Caldwell." 

"  Good  gracious !  What  did  she  have  to  say  for  herself  ? 
What's  she  doing.  But  I  don't  suppose  she  enlarged  on  that 
topic." 

"  No,  and  of  course  I  didn't  ask.  But  she's  coming  here  to 
see  us  some  day." 

"  Hope  I'm  home,"  Southward  declared.  "  Still  I  shouldn't  be 
surprised  if  you  never  heard  from  her  again." 

Nevertheless  Josie  called  a  few  days  later,  without  waiting  to 
telephone.  It  was  late  in  the  afternoon  and  Hester  immedi 
ately  set  about  making  tea.  In  the  meantime  Josie  roamed 
through  their  three  little  rooms,  examining  the  furnishings, 
surveying  the  pictures,  studying  the  photographs  on  the  bureaus. 
She  did  not  stay  long,  but  she  asked  numberless  questions  about 
Shayneford,  answering  some  of  them  herself. 

"  How's  that  old  cat  of  a  Sarah  Wallis  ?  I  wonder  if  Pearl  will 
ever  get  Lysander.  Now's  her  chance  with  Southward  away. 
He'll  never  look  at  her  when  Southward's  round.  Just  think  of  a 
pretty  girl  like  Flora  Tubman  marrying  such  a  fierce  proposition 
as  King  Curtis.  I  suppose  Pink'll  marry  Thode  Snow  some 
time.  He's  another  mess.  I  don't  envy  her." 

"  I'd  like  to  have  you  come  up  and  see  me  sometime,  Hester,"  she 
said  a  little  wistfully  when  she  left.  "  I  have  a  little  apartment 
uptown.  Violet's  just  across  the  hall  from  me." 

"  I'd  like  to  come,"  Hester  declared.  "  What  time  would  I  find 
you  at  home  ?  " 

"  Well,  if  you  were  to  come  between  five  and  six,  that  would 
strike  me  about  right.  My  work  is  at  night.  I'm  dancing  in  a 
cabaret  in  a  Broadway  cafe.  That  keeps  me  up  pretty  late  and 
I  sleep  most  of  the  day.  What  do  you  say  to  Friday.  And 
if  anything  comes  up  to  make  it  inconvenient  for  either  one 
of  us,  why  just  phone." 

"All  right,"  Hester  agreed. 

As  she  got  no  deterring  word  in  the  meantime,  Hester 
presented  herself  at  the  stipulated  day  and  hour  at  Josie's  ad 
dress.  It  was  a  tall,  thin,  flimsily-built,  highly-coloured  apartment- 
house  near  the  river.  The  street  was  filled  with  children  and  the 
omnipresent  concomitants  to  life  in  the  cheap  neighbourhoods  of 
New  York  city.  The  door  clicked  promptly  to  Hester's  ring 


368  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

and  she  walked  through  narrow  halls  and  up  narrow  stairs  until 
the  doorway  in  which  Josie  stood  arrested  her. 

"  Come  right  in,"  the  latter  greeted  her  cordially,  "  I  am  glad 
to  see  you.  I  didn't  know  but  what  you'd  get  cold  feet  when  it 
came  to  visiting  me.  I've  got  tea  waiting." 

In  the  number  of  its  rooms,  Josie's  apartment  was  not  larger 
than  the  model  tenement,  but  the  rooms  themselves  were  much 
larger.  With  manifest  pride,  Josie  showed  a  spotless  kitchen, 
a  spotless  bathroom,  a  gaudy  but  equally  spotless  living-room,  a 
bedroom  spotless  also  but  fairly  spectacular.  The  bed  and 
dresser  were  draped  in  a  cheap  flamboyant  cretonne.  On  the 
walls  were  many  pictures,  highly  coloured  and  gold-framed,  of 
pretty  women  in  evening  clothes.  They  came  back  presently  to 
the  living-room  where  the  tea  was  displayed  on  a  cheap  red-and- 
gold,  Chinese  tea-service. 

"  Don't  go  yet,"  Josie  pleaded  as  Hester  arose,  having  drunk  her 
tea.  "  If  you  don't  mind  staying  while  I  get  ready,  we  can  talk 
for  half  an  hour  longer.  I've  got  to  make-up  though.  I  hope 
you  won't  object  to  that." 

"  Not  at  all,"  said  Hester.  "  And  I  should  like  very  much  to 
watch  you.  I've  never  seen  it  done." 

Josie  pulled  a  little  tabouret  up  to  her  dressing-table;  sat  on 
it.  She  tipped  the  mirror  back.  She  flipped  the  covers  off  from  a 
number  of  little  boxes  in  a  highly-embossed  silver  which  it  was 
apparent  had  recently  been  polished,  and  fell  to  work,  talking  all 
the  time.  Hester  watched  her  reflection  in  the  mirror. 

Josie  was  still  wearing  a  kimono,  a  thin  silk  banded  in  blue, 
and  covered  with  great  peacock-coloured  poppies.  Her  hair  was 
combed  smoothly  back  into  a  little  bundle  held  by  a  single  hair 
pin.  The  electric  light  beside  the  glass  flared  on  her  face,  brought 
out  to  the  last  hair-line  all  the  wrinkles  that  radiated  about  her 
eyes  and  ran  in  little  colonies  from  her  nose  to  her  mouth. 
Her  hair  was  quite  lustreless  and  a  little  touched  with  grey  at  the 
temples.  The  flesh  of  her  neck  and  arms,  however,  as  it  was 
revealed  above  her  lacy,  ribbon-wound  underwear,  was  extraordi 
narily  fresh  and  young.  She  worked  quickly  and  deftly,  stopping 
at  intervals  to  study  results  with  a  squint-eyed  scrutiny.  Hester 
continued  to  watch  every  move,  fascinated,  absorbed.  Mechan 
ically  she  answered  the  flood  of  questions  which  Josie  poured  out 
about  Shayneford.  It  was  quite  evident  that,  despite  what  she 
said  in  derogation  of  that  "  slow  little  burg,"  she  still  yearned  for 
news  of  it.  Hester  had  brought  the  last  letter  from  her  mother. 
She  read  it. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  369 

"I  always  liked  your  mother,  Hester,"  Josie  said. 

"And  she  always  liked  you,  Josie,"  Hester  asserted. 

"  I've  never  forgotten  her  ginger-cookies.  My  word,,  but  they 
were  licking  good.  I'd  like  to  have  one  this  moment.  Does  she 
still  make  them  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,"  Hester  answered,  "  she  hasn't  lost  any  of  her  faculty 
for  cooking." 

There  came  a  pause  in  conversation. 

In  the  meantime  the  work  of  facial  rehabilitation  was  going 
steadily  on.  First  Josie  covered  her  face  with  a  toilet  cream, 
massaged  it  vigorously  for  a  few  minutes.  Then  she  rubbed  the 
cream  off  with  a  rough  towel,  rubbed  it  with  a  briskness  that 
brought  the  blood  surging  to  the  surface.  Then  followed  rouge 
applied  with  a  rabbit's  foot.  Over  the  rouge  came  powder  which 
covered  gauzily  the  whole  face  and  concealed  that  line  of  contact 
where  artificial  red  merged  with  flesh  tints.  Next  she  made 
shadows  under  the  eyes;  pencilled  her  eyebrows;  smudged  her 
eyelashes.  She  pinkened  her  nostrils  and  ear  lobes,  reddened  her 
lips.  Last  she  washed  her  hands;  spreading  a  whitening  fluid 
on  them  and  on  her  arms. 

"You'll  have  to  admit  that's  some  improvement,  Hester,"  she 
said  as  one  anticipating  unfavourable  comment. 

"I  do,"  Hester  admitted  readily  enough.  She  asked  many  in 
terested  questions  about  make-up  materials. 

The  next  step  in  the  process  of  Josie's  dressing  was  curling  her 
hair,  arranging  it.  This  she  did  very  skilfully.  When  she  had 
finished,  there  was  not  a  grey  hair  in  sight.  Then  she  slipped  out 
of  her  kimono  and  into  her  immaculate  black-and-white  suit.  She 
adjusted  ruffles;  added  jewelry;  put  on  her  rose-lined  hat  and 
her  crisp  veil.  She  stood  for  a  moment  looking  at  herself  in  the 
glass,  a  close  scrutiny  for  which  she  squinted  her  eyes  sharply. 
That  lynx-eyed  examining  air  changed  suddenly  as  she  turned  to 
Hester. 

"  I  suppose  you  know  what  all  this  is  about,"  she  said  abruptly. 
"  When  I  speak  of  my  '  work '  I  guess  you  know  what  I  mean. 
If  you  don't,  I'll  tell  you.  For  I  wouldn't  feel  that  I  was  doing 
the  square  thing  letting  you  come  here  without  knowing  what  I 
was  doing.  But  you've  always  been  so  good  to  me  whenever  I've 
gone  back  to  Shayneford,  when  everybody  else  has  handed  me  a 
cut.  that  I've  just  taken  it  for  granted  that  you  were  wise." 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  know,"  Hester  answered  simply.  "  And  it  breaks  my 
heart  to  think  of  it.  I  wish — oh,  how  I  wish — it  could  be  dif 
ferent.  For  your  sake,  Josie.  But  I — of  course  it  doesn't  make 


370  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

any  difference  in  my  feeling  for  you.  I've  always  had  an  idea 
that  you  weren't  to  blame,  that  you  got  into  it  against  your  own 
will,  that  you  were  drugged  or " 

Josie  interrupted  with  a  brief  strident  laugh.  "Drugged! 
Hell,  no!  Now  I'm  going  to  tell  you  something,  Hester,  not  the 
whole  story — though  maybe  I  may  tell  you  that  some  day.  But 
what  I'm  saying  is  the  truth.  No,  I  wasn't  drugged,  or  any 
thing  like  that.  I  went  into  it  with  my  eyes  open — or  open  as 
wide  as  any  woman's  ever  are  who  hasn't  tried  it.  There  was 
a  particular  reason  why  I  did  what  I  did  and  I'll  tell  you  about 
that  some  day.  I'm  not  so  sorry  either.  There's  lots  of  things 
about  it  I  don't  like,  of  course.  But  I've  got  a  business  head, 
and  I  clear  anywhere  from  thirty  to  sixty  a  week  and  I've  got 
my  own  bank-account.  I'd  rather  be  what  I  am  now,  believe 
me,  kid,  than  a  girl  in  a  shop,  or  a  waitress  or  a  chambermaid. 
But  don't  think  I  was  drugged  or  that  anybody  is.  I'd  be  ashamed 
to  pull  that  stuff,  even  if  it  was  true.  This  white-slave  proposi 
tion  is  a  scream  and  everybody  in  the  business  knows  it."  She 
stopped  and  gave  Hester  a  sideways  glance.  "  I  guess  this  is 
some  shock  to  you,  Hester." 

"  Yes,  it  is !  "  Hester  said.  "  And  then  again  it  isn't ;  for  it 
shouldn't  be.  I've  given  up  thinking  I  know  anything  about  life 
and  the  way  people  ought  to  live.  Everybody  has  a  problem  and 
he  must  work  it  out  in  his  own  way.  Nobody  else  can  do  it  for 
him."  She  paused  on  a  rush  of  words;  turned  to  the  general 
aspect  of  the  conversation  as  though  these  concrete  glimpses  were 
a  little  too  close.  "  Do  you  mean,"  she  demanded,  "  that  you 
have  never  in  your  experience  heard  of  a  girl  being  taken  into 
this  life  against  her  will  ? " 

Josie  reflected,  gazing  squint-eyed  into  the  mirror.  "  I  did 
hear  of  a  case  once,"  she  admitted  slowly.  "  Now  let  me  think 
about  that.  How  was  it?" 

Her  gaze  narrowed  and  concentrated. 

"  Oh,  I  remember  now.  This  happened  about  three  years  ago. 
I  heard  it  told  in  half  a  dozen  different  ways  but  the  gist  of  the 
mix-up  was  this.  A  young  girl  comes  to  New  York  from  the 
country  all  alone.  She  boards  at  the  same  place  with  a  woman 
who's  interested  in  a  high-class  house  uptown.  This  woman 
wanted  a  young,  fresh  pretty  girl  for  special  reasons  and  she 
wanted  her  quick.  One  story  said  it  meant  a  thousand  dollars 
to  her.  Anyway,  she  invites  this  girl  to  the  house  intending  to 
keep  her  there  until  she'd  be  in  such  a  state  of  mind  that  she'd 
never  want  to  come  out.  She  has  a  man  there  to  handle  her. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  371 

The  girl  walks  into  the  house  all  right  but  the  instant  the  door 
closes  she  gets  wise  to  where  she  is — I  guess  likely  they'd  for 
gotten  to  cover  the  pictures.  What  do  you  suppose  she  does? 
Pulls  a  gun.  I  never  believed  this  story  myself,  because  what 
would  a  country-girl  be  travelling  with  a  gun  for?  Anyway  she 
shoots  the  guy  just  as  he's  coming  towards  her  and  makes  her 
getaway." 

"  Was  she  arrested  ? "  Hester  asked  breathlessly. 

"  Not  in  a  thousand  years,"  Josie  declared.  "  Nothing  like 
that  in  this  business.  Nobody'd  ever  make  a  complaint  for  fear 
of  worse  things.  Of  course  the  story  leaked  out  after  a  while 
and  that's  how  I  happened  to  hear  it.  I've  never  quite  swallowed 
it  though." 

"  Did  the  man  die  ? " 

"  No,  though  he  all  but.    No,  he's  alive  and  kicking." 

"  It's  a  terrible  story,"  Hester  said  gravely,  "  if  true." 

Josie  apparently  dismissed  the  whole  subject  from  her  mind 
as  she  transferred  her  squint-eyed  gaze  to  the  mirror  again. 

"  Do  you  want  to  ride  downtown  with  me  ? "  she  offered 
hesitatingly  after  a  while.  "  Violet  and  I  generally  go  down  to 
gether.  Remember,  she's  in  the  same  business."  Her  warning 
tone  seemed  to  hold  a  challenge. 

"  Yes.  I  think  I  understood  that,"  Hester  replied.  "  Yes,  I'll 
go  down  with  you." 

They  crossed  the  hall  to  Violet's  apartment.  Miss  Wilson  had 
just  finished  making  up.  She  greeted  them  with  what  seemed  a 
characteristic  good  nature,  sparkling  and  warm;  continued  her 
preparation.  Josie  helped  her  into  the  gown  of  which  many  of  the 
hooks  were  missing  and  parts  of  the  lace  torn.  Violet  rectified 
all  this  with  a  skilful  use  of  pins. 

Her  rooms  presented  a  characteristic  contrast  to  Josie's.  Two 
months  after  Christmas,  a  trio  of  crimson  paper  bells  still  dangled 
from  the  chandelier.  Tattered  dusty  banners  of  red  crepe  ran 
from  it  to  the  corners  of  the  mantel.  Her  bed  was  not  made. 
Her  silver  toilet  articles,  where  they  could  be  seen  through  a 
layer  of  soiled  handkerchiefs,  dingy  white  gloves  and  crumpled 
veils,  were  black  with  use. 

"  Now  I'm  all  ready,"  she  announced,  adjusting  the  chin-strap 
of  a  big  feather-laden  hat.  And  in  some  extraordinary  way,  she 
managed  to  exude  a  feminine  charm. 

That  night  at  dinner  Hester  told  Southward  the  story  that 
Josie  had  related  to  her. 

The  effect  was  extraordinary.    Southward  turned  white;  poured 


372  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

out  a  glass  of  water  hastily  and  drank  it  down  in  great  gulping 
swallows. 

"  Why,  Southward !  "  Hester  exclaimed  in  surprise,  "  I  hadn't 
the  remotest  idea  that  it  would  have  such  an  effect  on  you.  I'm 
sorry  I  told  it." 

"  It's  nothing,"  Southward  exclaimed  hastily.  "  Nothing  what 
ever — except  imagination.  I  couldn't  help  thinking  how  that  girl 

felt  when  she  saw  the  man  lying But  then  my  nerve  isn't 

what  it  used  to  be.  Do  you  remember  the  first  night  we  got  here 
how  I  waked  you  up  screaming  that  the  tall  buildings  were  closing 
in  on  me  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  I  remember,"  Hester  said.  "  Still  this  isn't  much 
like  you,  Southward,  to  get  so  white  and  trembly.  Are  you  sure 
you're  quite  well  ?  " 

"  Sure."  And  as  though  to  prove  it,  Southward  plunged  into 
a  racy  account  of  her  day's  doings.  Hester  did  not  refer  to  Josie's 
story  again. 


CHAPTER  XXH 

WITH  life  bombarding  her  vigorously  from  every  direction, 
Hester's  aspect  slowly  changed.  Erectness  conquered  the  droop 
in  her  carriage,  alertness  overcame  the  lassitude  in  her  expression. 
She  still  showed  the  air  of  one  a  little  dazed  by  the  clamour  all 
about  her,  of  one  who  awaits  some  rescuing  event.  From  time 
to  time,  John  said  to  her,  "  How  about  it,  Hester  ?  Do  you  still 
feel  yourself  on  the  outside  of  life  ?  " 

"  Quite  as  much  as  ever,"  Hester  invariably  answered. 

But  after  a  while,  John  added,  "  That  may  be,  Hester,  but  you're 
certainly  putting  on  flesh." 

A  visit  to  the  scales  in  the  butcher-shop  confirmed  this  surmise. 
Her  figure  gained  grace  and  authority  under  this  process. 

As  spring  came,  she  saw  less  and  less  of  Edith.  For  Edith  was 
going  with  greater  regularity  now  to  the  home  of  her  dying 
aunt.  These  visits  were  always  followed  by  a  depressing  lassi 
tude  which  kept  her  in  bed  for  a  day  or  two.  Sometimes  Hester 
did  not  get  a  chance  to  see  her  between  visits. 

"  I  wish  if  that  aunt  of  hers  is  going  to  die,  she'd  do  it  to-day," 
Hester  kept  saying  to  Rena  Osgood.  "  She'll  kill  Edith  if  some 
thing  doesn't  happen  soon." 

Now,  however,  when  Hester  referred  to  the  state  of  Edith's 
health,  Rena  always  turned  her  head  away;  made  some  evasive 
answer.  Occasionally  Hester  discussed  the  matter  with  Ripley 
who  showed  a  helpless  concern;  but  more  often  with  John. 

"  Rena's  right,"  John  always  said.  "  We  can  do  nothing  until 
the  aunt  is  dead.  You  can't  argue  with  Edith  when  it's  a  point  of 
family  duty.  She  has  only  this  one  near  relative  and  she'll  see 
it  through  if  it  kills  her.  But  the  instant  the  funeral  is  over,  I'll 
— we'll  pick  Edith  up  and  take  her  off  bodily  to  some  quiet  place 
where  she  can  relax  and  rest." 

Hester's  talks  with  John  always  opened  with  a  consideration 
of  Edith's  welfare;  often  they  closed  with  it.  John  indeed  could 
give  her  later  reports  than  she  could  get  from  anybody  else. 
He  called  at  Edith's  house  once  every  day  it  seemed.  Sometimes 
this  call  came  during  his  lunch  hours;  sometimes  during  the 
afternoon,  sometimes  in  the  evening,  but  it  never  failed.  In  his 
walks  with  Hester,  his  eye  was  always  out  for  what  would  interest 

373 


374  THE  LADY  OP  KINGDOMS 

or  entertain  Edith.  A  picture  in  some  out-of-the-way  art  window, 
an  antique  in  a  distant  second-hand  shop,  a  glint  of  river  or 
harbour,  a  jumble  of  sky-tearing  architecture — he  stored  them 
all  up  for  her. 

Edith  left  New  York  early  in  March  and  went  to  live  with  her 
aunt.  Now  her  only  communication  with  Hester  or  even  John 
was  an  occasional  confused,  long-distance  telephone  talk  or  her 
brief  letters  jotted  in  pencil,  often  smudged  with  haste  and  al 
most  incoherent. 

"  I'd  like  to  go  to  see  Edith,"  John  said,  "  but  she  refuses  to  let 
me  come.  Apparently  she  doesn't  want  me  to  stay  in  the  house, 
and  I  think  she's  afraid  that  her  relatives  might  find  it  a  queer 
situation  if  I  stayed  at  the  hotel.  It's  a  small  place  and  full  of 
gossip  of  course." 

Apparently  however,  all  the  time  he  had  given  to  Edith  he  now 
transferred  to  Hester. 

Spring  had  come  with  all  her  accustomed  coyness  of  approach. 
She  advanced;  she  retreated.  She  made  a  hundred  sounding 
promises,  redeemed  none  of  them  and  then  suddenly  inundated 
the  world  with  passionate  devotion.  March  that  year  came  in 
like  a  lamb  and  went  out  like  a  gazelle.  The  sky  was  heavy  with 
soft  white  clouds  which,  parting,  displayed  summer's  own  blue  or, 
concentrating,  produced  faint  showers  that  hung  over  the  world 
like  a  golden  mist.  On  clear  days,  the  brilliant  New  York  air 
seemed  to  hold  a  rose-coloured  tinge.  The  nights  surged  with 
stars.  There  was  something  of  faery  about  the  world.  John  often 
called  on  Hester  in  the  early  morning,  on  his  way  to  the  office, 
making  a  wide  detour  for  that  purpose.  He  brought  her  spring 
flowers;  sometimes  he  took  her  to  lunch;  sometimes  to  dinner. 
And  as  the  month  went  by,  he  became  more  and  more  likely  to 
do  two  of  these  things ;  and  once  he  did  all  three.  Their  intimacy 
had  reached  that  point  that  they  met  sometimes  without  greeting, 
merely  turning  together  into  accustomed  ways.  And  often  in  the 
midst  of  their  most  interesting  and  interested  conversations  came 
intervals  of  understanding  quiet. 

At  her  mother's  command — it  was  accompanied  by  a  re-enforc 
ing  money-order, — Hester  bought  herself  some  new  things.  Maud 
Morpeth  made  the  clothes  and  Ellen  Day  the  hat.  In  a  suit — 
whose  lines  were  designed  for  her  figure — of  heavy  reseda-green 
silk  with  a  cream-coloured  blouse,  trimmed  with  butter-coloured 
lace  and  a  hat  whose  shape  was  designed  for  her  head,  wide, 
drooping,  foliage-trimmed,  Hester  was  for  the  first  time  in  her 
life  a  figure  of  quiet  elegance. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  375 

"You  remember  what  I  told  you  about  yourself  in  Shayne- 
f ord,"  John  never  forgot  to  say.  "  It's  coming  more  true  every 
day." 

And  indeed,  just  as  the  spring  thrilled  the  earth,  it  seemed  to 
thrill  Hester.  It  flowed  through  her — that  vernal  impulse — in  a 
fire  that  broke  out  on  her  face  in  waves  of  mounting  colour 
that  pulsed  through  her  hair  in  waves  of  deepening  flame.  She 
was  quicker  in  her  movements  now;  more  nervously  alert.  She 
flashed  about  at  the  sound  of  her  name.  Her  face  bore  an  eternal 
look  of  expectancy.  Late  in  March  came  an  interval  of  intense 
premature  heat  in  which  the  city  seemed  actually  to  wilt.  Summer 
dresses  appeared  and  during  the  evenings  the  wide  steps  of  the 
big  old  houses  were  filled  with  people  vainly  trying  to  get  a  breath 
of  air.  And  in  this  heat,  Southward  departed  for  Shayneford. 
During  her  absence  John  came  for  Hester  every  evening. 

"Where  shall  we  walk?"  he  asked  always. 

•'  Where  it's  quiet,"  Hester  invariably  answered.  Off  the  beaten 
track  they  wandered  now  constantly,  her  arm  in  his;  along 
favourite  paths  in  the  park  or  beside  the  river.  They  laughed 
and  talked  at  a  feverish  pace  or  kept  silent  with  somehow  an  effect 
of  even  greater  psychological  speed. 

Then  one  twilight,  the  fresh  young  crescent  moon  appeared 
like  a  coquettish  apparition  in  the  western  sky.  It  rocked  for  a 
few  nights,  a  silver  arc  in  a  peacock-blue  sky,  tagged  everywhere 
by  an  evening  star.  They  watched  it  grow  through  a  misty, 
honey-coloured  adolescence  to  a  ruddy  round  maturity.  "  Hester," 
John  said  one  night  watching  the  moonlight  wash  over  her  up 
lifted,  gold-framed  face,  "  you  are  beautiful." 

Hester's  lids  sank. 

"  Oh,  no !  "  she  exclaimed  as  though  involuntarily. 

John  did  not  refute  her.  But  the  next  night,  he  said  abruptly 
again,  "  Hester,  you  are  beautiful." 

This  time  Hester's  lids  only  half-sank.  But  midway  in  the 
process,  they  came  up  and  her  eyes  looked  steadily  into  his. 

"  Thank  you,  for  thinking  so,"  she  breathed. 

The  next  night,  John  said  for  the  third  time.  "  Hester,  you 
are  beautiful." 

This  time  her  lids  did  not  even  flutter.  She  smiled  and  perhaps 
for  the  first  time  with  a  sense  of  triumphant  assurance. 

"  I'm  glad,"  she  said. 


CHAPTEK  XXIII 

THE  next  morning,  John  called  Hester  up  to  tell  her  that  he 
was  going  out  of  town  for  a  day  and  a  night. 

"It  looks  as  though  you  were  going  to  be  all  alone  this  day," 
John  commented.  "  My  advice  to  you  is  to  get  some  much 
needed  rest." 

But  Hester  did  not  rest.  An  excitement  perhaps  left  over 
from  the  night  before  drove  her  into  action.  She  put  the  flat 
to  perfect  rights,  went  out  and  ordered  groceries  and  provisions. 
Then  she  washed  her  hair  and  this — considering  its  mass — 
was  a  process  far  from  restful.  She  went  up  on  the  roof  to  dry 
it.  In  the  soft  sunshine  which  still  continued  and  in  the  faint 
breeze  which  maintained  itself  perpetually  at  that  height,  it  soon 
dried.  She  came  down  holding  two  great  billowing,  sparkling 
masses,  one  over  each  arm. 

The  buzzer  hummed  for  a  moment.  It  was  time  for  the  boy 
to  deliver  the  things  she  had  bought.  Without  bothering  to  talk 
through  the  tube,  Hester  pressed  the  button  which  would  open 
the  door.  Advancing  to  the  mirror,  she  contemplated  with  a  frank 
pleasure  what  the  air  and  sunshine  had  done  to  her.  She  was 
wearing  a  slim  white  morning  dress  of  which  the  sleeves  came 
only  to  the  elbow  and  the  neck  formed  a  square.  Once  she  would 
not  have  worn  such  a  gown,  but  the  addition  in  her  weight  had 
made  its  style  becoming.  Her  long  white  arms  had  rounded;  her 
hands  showed  a  faint  plumpness.  Her  cheeks  had  turned  a  deeper 
pink  from  the  wind,  her  eyes  a  warmer  blue. 

There  came  a  knock  on  the  outer  door. 

"  Come  in,"  she  called  absently.  And  then  as  the  front  door 
opened  and  shut,  "  Put  the  things  on  the  table,  please,  Tony." 

"  It's  not  Tony,"  John's  voice  called  from  the  hall.  "  My  old 
plute  wired  me  to  meet  him  in  New  York,  and  we  did  our 
business  in  fifteen  minutes.  He's  going  to  put  some  money  in 
Tomorrow.  I  thought  I'd — my  God!" 

He  stopped  in  the  doorway.  Hester  had  turned,  presenting  full 
to  him  a  face  that  suddenly  bloomed  with  smiles  and  blushes 
from  the  midst  of  twin  cascades  of  gold. 

376 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  377 

John  stood  an  instant,  staring.  Then  he  advanced  swiftly; 
seized  her.  Hester's  white  arms  dropped  the  heavy  masses  of 
her  hair,  crept  about  his  neck  as  she  lifted  her  lips  to  his  kiss. 

Suddenly  John  flung  himself  away  from  her. 

"  Forgive  me,  Hester,"  he  groaned.  "  I  have  no  right  to 
do  this.  I  couldn't  help  it.  It  got  beyond  me.  But  I  haven't  the 
right." 

Hester  stood  where  he  had  left  her,  her  hands  hanging  by  her 
side,  her  hair  rippling  nearly  to  the  ground.  She  smiled  and 
her  smile  had  the  delicious  sweetness  of  the  woman  confident  of 
her  triumph. 

"  But  you  love  me,  John." 

"  Yes,  I  love  you." 

"  And  you  know  that  I  love  you." 

"  Yes,  I  know  that." 

She  waited.  Her  hair  falling  about  her  enclosed  her  as  with  a 
glistening  golden  mail,  solid  except  where  the  pink-nailed  tips  of 
her  beautiful  hands  cut  through.  Between  its  folds,  she  still  smiled 
deliciously. 

"What  is  it,  John?"  she  asked. 

But  her  question  was  languid,  perfunctory  even.  Triumph 
surged  into  her  voice.  John  was  silent.  But  manifestly  not  be 
cause  he  did  not  want  to  answer  her,  because  he  was  so  spell 
bound  by  that  delicious  smiling  confidence,  that  rose-coloured 
mounting  triumph. 

"Are  you  married,  John?" 

"  No." 

"  Is  there  any  woman  to  whom  you  owe  marriage  ? " 

"  No." 

"  Are  you  bound  to  any  woman  ?  " 

John  answered  directly,  "  No."  Then  after  a  pause.  "  Not 
in  the  way  you  mean." 

"  And  yet  you're  not  free  ? " 

"No,  I'm  free — and  I'm  bound." 

He  stood  still  looking  at  Hester  and  she  stood  motionless  look 
ing  at  him.  And  in  that  long  silence,  something  obviously  at 
first  only  a  tiny  ripple  of  suspicion  grew  to  a  bounding  wave, 
swelled  to  an  encompassing  tide,  crashed  on  her  consciousness  in 
a  flood  of  conviction.  That  rose-coloured  triumph  receded  from 
Hester's  air;  that  delicious  smile  dried  on  her  lips. 

"It's  Edith,"  she  announced  with  certainty.  "Tell  me  about 
it." 


378  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

John  looked  about  helplessly.  "Let's  sit  somewhere,"  he  sug 
gested.  "It's  a  long  story.  Yes,  it's  Edith." 

He  led  the  way  to  Southward's  room.  He  seated  himself  on 
the  couch  there  and  drew  Hester  by  a  thick  strand  of  her  hair  to 
his  side.  He  held  this  strand  while  he  talked. 

"  It's  such  a  long  story — and  so  confused — I  don't  know  how 
to  tell  it  exactly.  Perhaps  I'm  a  cad  to  tell  it  at  all.  But 
there  are  some  circumstances  in  which  codes  have  to  go  down. 
This  is  one  of  them.  And  I  must  make  you  understand, 
if  I  can.  For  you  are  the  woman  I  love.  I  shall  always  love 
you." 

He  stopped  and  tried  to  collect  his  thoughts. 

"  It  goes  back  to  my  rery  birth.  You  see  I  don't  know 
who  I  am.  I  was  found  on  somebody's  doorstep  and  sent 
to  a  foundling  asylum.  They  never  could  trace  my  parents. 
Nobody  knows.  That's  never  bothered  me  particularly.  I  don't 
care — never  have.  But  that's  why  I'm  John  Smith.  That's  the 
name  they  gave  me  in  the  home.  I  lived  in  the  institution  until 
I  was  twelve.  Then  Edith,  a  very  young  and  beautiful  girl  of 
twenty -two,  came  to  visit  the  place.  She  saw  me;  took  a  fancy 
to  me.  She  came  again  and  again.  In  the  end  she  carried  me 
home  with  her.  She  never  adopted  me  legally,  but  I  always 
thought  of  her  as  a  mother.  She  was  a  very  stately  young  woman, 
appearing  to  me,  a  child,  much  older  than  she  really  was.  And 
in  fact,  I  think  she  did  look  older  than  she  was.  She  dressed 
in  an  older  fashion  than  she  does  now.  Anyway  she  had  a  great 
deal  of  dignity  and  poise.  She  had  always  had  a  lot  of  money 
and  she  was  accustomed  to  managing  for  herself.  That  gave 
her  an  air  of  authority.  She  took  me  away  to  a  place  she 
had  hired  for  the  summer  in  the  Berkshire  hills.  She  said 
she  was  going  to  send  me  to  school  in  the  fall.  But  when 
the  fall  came,  she  didn't  do  that.  She  was  an  orphan  and, 
except  for  this  old  aunt  that's  dying,  with  only  a  few  far-away 
relatives.  She  was  lonely  and  I  think  she  got  accustomed  to 
having  me  about;  she  didn't  want  to  give  up  the  companionship. 
Every  summer  she  made  plans  for  sending  me  away  to  school  but 
when  the  time  came  she  never  did  it.  I  was  contented  enough. 
I'd  had  enough  of  institutions.  I  thought  school  would  be  like  the 
place  I  had  left,  and  besides  she  hired  all  kinds  of  tutors  for  me. 
She  had  a  wonderful  library.  We  lived  everywhere;  for  two 
years  we  travelled  abroad.  Of  its  kind  of  course,  it  was  a  remark 
able  education.  It  might  have  become  over-feminised.  But  the 
tutors  tended  to  correct  that  tendency." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  379 

He  paused  and  looked  off  into  space  as  though  examining  critic 
ally  something  he  saw  there. 

"  I  can't  tell  you  how  beautiful  Edith  seemed  to  me.  Or 
what  an  angel  of  gentleness  and  kindness.  In  fact,  I  don't  have 
to  tell  you  anything  about  her.  You  know  as  well  as  I  do.  If  I 
tried  to  enumerate  all  the  things  she's  done  for  me,  I  couldn't 
possibly  do  it.  If  I  spent  the  rest  of  my  life  trying  to  repay  her, 
I  couldn't  possibly  do  that.  Of  course,  living  in  an  institution, 
I  had  never  known  the  kind  of  affection  she  offered  me.  It  seemed 
heaven  to  me.  I  had  always  been  a  little  undersized.  The  first 
effect  of  the  good  living  she  gave  me — the  out-of-door  life,  ex 
ercise,  nourishing  food — was  that  I  suddenly  began  to  shoot  up. 
At  fourteen  I  was  a  man.  I  guess  I  would  have  been  in  any 
circumstances  an  affectionate,  easily-bossed  kind  of  beggar,  the 
clay-in-the-woman's-hands  sort  of  duffer.  And  given  that  disposi 
tion,  you  can  easily  see  how  I  would  respond  to  Edith's  affection. 
I  worshipped  her.  I  was  as  lazy  as  most  boys,  but  I  liked  to 
wait  on  her.  I  can  remember  that  first  year  when  she  came 
into  my  bedroom  to  kiss  me  good  night.  Her  wonderful  evening 
gowns,  her  jewels,  her  exquisite  sculpturesque  neck  and  arms,  her 
shining  eyes,  her  lovely  hair,  the  perfume  she  used — well,  she  was 
reading  George  Macdonald  to  me  then  and  she  was  all  the 
beautiful  women  in  his  stories.  She  was  North  Wind  and  Day 
light,  the  Princess  in  the  Curdie  books  and  the  Fairy  Godmother 
too." 

He  stopped  again.  With  his  left  hand,  he  seized  another  strand 
of  Hester's  hair.  And  as  he  talked,  he  plaited  and  unplaited  the 
two  locks.  Hester  sat  immobile,  listening  attentively. 

"  I  don't  know  when  it  first  began  to  dawn  on  me  that  her  af 
fection  for  the  little  boy  she  had  befriended  had  developed  into 
something  deeper.  Of  course  that  bringing  up  had  made  me  an 
innocent,  modest  little  chap,  virginal  as  any  girl.  I  can't  tell  you 
when  I  first  began  to  feel  bothered  or  how  the  suspicion  grew. 
I  can't  tell  even  you,  what  made  it  certainty.  Those  years  are 
confused.  As  I  look  back  on  them  I  get  only  a  sense  of  psycho 
logical  upheaval  and  trouble.  And  then  bang — there  it  was!  A 
situation  that  floored  me  completely,  that  I  had  no  idea  how  to 
cope  with." 

"You  mean  she  fell  in  love  with  you,"  Hester  said  succinctly, 
"but  you  didn't  fall  in  love  with  her." 

John  shifted  uneasily.  "  I  suppose  that's  it,"  he  admitted. 
"  You  don't  know  what  a  rotter  I  feel  to  be  saying  anything 
like  this  about  Edith.  However  the  first  effect  on  me  at  fifteen 


380  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

was  a  wild  interval  when  I  tried  to  be  as  masculine  as  possible. 
I  just  naturally  reached  out  for  anything  that  would  counteract 
this  engulfing — and  rather  perfervid — femininity.  I  went  to  a 
gymnasium  and  I  tried  to  break  every  record  that  was.  I  did 
break  one  or  two.  I  ran  and  jumped  and  swam  and  boxed.  And 
fight!  Why,  Hester,  from  being  the  mildest  little  shaver  who  was 
ever  tied  to  a  woman's  apron-strings,  I  got  to  be  the  most  per 
sistent  fighter.  I'd  fight  anybody.  I'd  fight  at  the  drop  of  a  hat. 
I  went  out  of  my  way  to  provoke  fights.  I'd  fight  my  weight  in 
wildcats.  The  next  and  most  important  effect  was  that  I  wouldn't 
let  Edith  spend  any  more  money  on  me.  I  still  lived  with  her,  but 
I  found  a  job.  When  I  was  eighteen,  the  situation  was  getting 
beyond  me — and  I  beat  it  to  New  York;  got  one  job  and 
another  job  and  another  until  after  ten  years  I  landed  on  To 
morrow.  For  five  years  I  didn't  let  Edith  know  where  I  was. 
But  as  I  got  interested  in  the  various  forms  of  social  rebellion, 
it  occurred  to  me  that  the  solution  of  her  problem  was  to  get 
out  of  herself.  I  wrote  her  a  long  letter  in  which  I  told  her 
all  this  and  begged  her  to  come  to  New  York  to  live.  She  came." 

John  paused  for  a  longer  interval.  And  in  that  pause,  the 
inner  tumult  which  had  lined  his  face  and  brought  the  grey  to 
his  temples  broke  into  a  blaze. 

"I  don't  know  but  what  that  was  the  worst  thing  I  could  pos 
sibly  have  done  for  her.  It  didn't  work  at  all.  She  is  always  a 
very  angel  of  kindness  and  squareness  in  her  personal  relations; 
she  is  instinctively  charitable.  But  that  lets  her  out.  She  can't 
for  the  life  of  her  interest  herself  in  impersonal  movements. 
You  see  she  has  cultivated  fastidiousness  all  her  life,  until  she's 
the  victim  of  it.  Then  seeing  me  again  seemed  to  fix  her 
in  the  habit  of  me.  She  depended  on  me  more  and  more ;  began  to 
lose  her  head.  I  often  threatened  to  go  away  for  good.  But 

she  said  if  I  did In  the  end  of  course  I  didn't.    And  there  it 

rests." 

"  You  can't  love  Edith,"  Hester  said. 

"A  man  may  not  love  his  mother,"  John  answered  solemnly. 
"I  love  her  too  much  in  my  way  to  love  her  even  a  little  in  her 
way.  It  would  be  sacrilege,  profanation,  incest.  I  could  not  do  it. 
And  so  I've  lived  for  these  years  in  New  York.  I  don't  pretend 
that  I've  lived  an  ascetic  life.  Far  from  it.  But  I've  never  per 
mitted  myself  to  get  involved  with  any  woman.  I  couldn't  marry 
Edith  but  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  wouldn't  marry  anybody 
else.  Of  course  it's  cut  me  out  of  matrimony.  Not  that  I  care 
a  damn.  I  don't  know  that  I'm  such  a  domestic  kind  of  guy. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  381 

That's  never  pinched.  It's  also  cut  me  out  of  love.  I'm  glad 
of  that  now,  because  it  led  up  to  you.  I've  never  really  cared 
until  I  met  you,  Hester.  And  of  course  I  thought  I  never 
was  going  to  tell  you.  But  when  you  came  towards  me  with  your 
hair  down,  looking  as  you  did  that  night  at  the  camp  at  Shayne- 
ford  when  I  fell  in  love  with  you — I  love  you,  Hester.  I  want  to 
marry  you.  And  I  can't." 

Hester's  eyes  had  grown  dull  and  sombre;  the  blush  had  faded 
from  her  cheeks.  "  I  love  you,  John,"  she  said  quietly.  "  And 
I  want  to  marry  you.  But  I  can't." 

Suddenly  she  arose  and  moved  about  the  room.  But  she  walked 
with  none  of  her  old-time  languor;  she  walked  with  an  extraordi 
nary  vigour :  she  strode.  When  she  turned  to  him,  her  eyes  flared 
with  starry  resolution. 

"  I've  been  trying  to  think  out  what  my  duty  is,"  she  began 
suddenly.  And  her  voice  rang.  "  I  couldn't  make  up  my  mind 
for  a  minute  that  I  ought  to  tell  you.  It  came  to  me  the  instant 
you  began  to  speak.  And  now  I  see  plainly  that  you  must  know. 
John,  Edith  takes  some  drug — ether,  I  think." 

John  stared  at  her  for  a  dumb  moment.  His  stare  grew  from 
stupefaction  to  horror;  changed  to  certainty.  He  leaped  to  his 
feet  with  an  inarticulate  exclamation. 

"  She's  been  taking  ether  for,"  Hester's  voice  vibrated,  "  oh,  I 
don't  know  how  long." 

"  By  God,  you're  right,  Hester.  You're  absolutely  right.  What 
an  ass  I've  been  not  to  suspect  it.  How  did  you  find  it  out  ? " 

"  That  night  she  stayed  with  us  at  Shayneford.  I  was  waked 
in  the  middle  of  the  night  by  a  smell  of  ether  in  the  air.  She 
slept  out  of  doors  on  the  balcony,  but  the  wind  brought  it  to  me. 
It  was  only  an  instant  and  I  didn't  recognise  the  odour  as  ether. 
But  I  was  uneasy  and  got  up  and  went  out  to  see  if  she  was 
all  right.  She  was  apparently  sleeping  peacefully  and  I  forgot  all 
about  it.  The  night  I  spent  at  her  house  when  we  first  got  here, 
the  same  thing  happened.  But  I  never  put  two  and  two  together 
until  you  started  to  tell  your  story." 

"  Does  anybody  else  know  ? "  John  asked. 

"  Rena  Osgood.  She's  never  spoken  of  it  to  me.  But  I  realise 
now  that  she  has  suspected  for  a  long  time.  It's  strange.  Every 
thing  has  got  clear  to  me  in  the  last  five  minutes.  I  think  Rena 
is  preparing  to  open  the  subject  to  me.  She's  the  one  to  take 
care  of  Edith  if  anybody  does.  She'll  cure  her  if  it  can  be  done. 
You  must  get  to  Rena  at  once,  John.  And  from  her  to  Edith." 

"  I'm  going  right  up  to  see  Rena  now,"  John  said.    "  Then  I'll 


382  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

go  out  to  see  Edith.  Don't  leave  this  place.  I'll  telephone  you 
sometime  this  afternoon.  Of  course  I've  got  to  attend  to  this 
matter  at  once.  But  to-night  I  want  to  have  a  long  talk  with  you. 
You  know,  Hester,  we've  got  something  to  thrash  out  between  us 
that  will  take  many  hours.  For  remember  I  lore  you." 
"  All  right,  John,"  Hester  answered. 

After  John  left,  Hester  sat  by  the  window  for  a  long  time. 
Then  she  sought  the  janitor.  "  If  anybody  calls  on  me,"  she  said 
to  him,  "  I  want  you  to  say  that  I'm  out  of  town  and  won't  be 
back  for  three  or  four  days.  And  please  keep  on  doing  this  until 
I  tell  you  otherwise." 

Her  next  move  was  to  take  the  receiver  off  the  hook  and  place 
it  on  the  telephone-box.  It  stayed  there  for  days. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

WHEN  Southward  walked  into  Long  Lanes  the  next  night,  her 
grandfather  was  eating  his  dinner,  as  usual,  alone  with  Charlotte. 

"  Well — good  Lord ! "  he  ejaculated,  "  where'd  you  come  from, 
Southward?" 

"  New  York,"  Southward  answered  gaily,  kissing  him  and 
then  Charlotte.  "  How  are  you,  Cap'n  ? " 

"  Pretty  well,"  answered  Mr.  Drake.  "  Why  didn't  you  tell  us 
you  were  coming?  I'd  have  been  up  to  the  station  to  meet  you." 

"  Thought    I'd    surprise    you,"    Southward    explained    briefly. 
"Besides  Lysander's  almost  always  there.     He  wasn't  this  time 
though,  and  I  walked.    How's  grandmother  ?  " 

That  question  answered  itself. 

"Be  that  you,  Southward?"  came  in  surprised  accents  from 
the  bedroom.  "  I'm  not  asleep.  Come  right  in  here  this  moment 
and  let  me  look  at  you !  " 

Southward  obeyed.  She  hugged  her  grandmother  and  kissed 
her  again  and  again. 

"Well,  I  declare,"  Mrs.  Drake  exclaimed,  "if  you  ain't  the 
most  surprising  girl!  I'm  glad  to  see  you  though  and  you  cer 
tainly  do  look  well.  Is  that  a  boughten  waist  or  did  you  make 
it  yourself?  How  long  are  you  going  to  stay  or  have  you  come 
for  good?" 

"I've  only  come  for  a  little  visit.  But  I  don't  know  how 
long  I'm  going  to  stay  yet,"  was  Southward's  careless  explanation. 
"How  is  everybody?" 

"Pretty  well  now  but  there  has  been  an  awful  lot  of  sickness 
about.  That  Mis'  Ellis — you  know  the  one — Mandy's  second 
cousin  from  the  West — dreadful  ailing  creature.  Land,  seems 
as  though  she  had  everything!  Ulcerated  tooth,  neuralgia,  then 
the  la  grippe.  It  didn't  seem  as  if  there  was  anything  going,  one 
time  there,  but  what  she  got  it.  And  old  Captain  Dodd  has 
had  his  other  leg  cut  off.  Ain't  that  a  dreadful  shame?  It 
does  seem  as  though  he'd  had  enough.  And  the  Snow  twins 
had  measles — caught  it  from  each  other  of  course.  I  guess  that's 
all."  Mrs.  Drake  reeled  off  this  list  with  a  melancholy  pleasure. 
"  You  been  well,  Southward  ?  And  how's  Hester  ? " 

383 


384  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  I'm  always  well,"  Southward  answered,  "  and  as  for  Hester, 
I  never  saw  her  looking  finer  in  my  life." 

"  That's  good,"  Mrs.  Drake  approved.  "  Mis'  Crowell  comes 
over  sometimes  and  reads  her  letters  to  me  and  I  allus  read 
yours  to  her,  and  so  between  us  we  get  a  good  idea  of  what  you 
two  girls  was  doing.  I  never  heard  tell  of  such  good  times  as 
you  had — but  I  must  say  I  couldn't  see  when  you  slept." 

"  How's  Lysander  ?  "  Southward  asked. 

"Able  to  get  out,  I  guess,"  Mrs.  Drake  emitted  a  spark  of 
humour.  "  He's  been  away  on  and  off.  I  don't  know  where  he 
is  now." 

Southward  helped  Charlotte  with  the  dishes  and  afterwards 
superficially  to  clean  up.  The  house  showed  all  the  inevitable  mal 
adjustments  of  a  place  managed  by  a  blind  woman  and  a  crippled 
man. 

Southward  made  no  comment;  but,  as  far  as  she  could,  she 
brought  into  the  chaos  some  of  that  systematic  orderliness  which 
she  could  develop  in  one  instant  and  destroy  in  another.  Then 
she  led  the  way  into  Mrs.  Drake's  room;  talked  long  and  rapidly 
though  ramblingly  about  her  New  York  experiences.  At  about 
ten  o'clock  Mrs.  Drake  fell  asleep  from  sheer  exhaustion. 

"Don't  go  to  bed  yet,  grandfather,"  Southward  said  as  they 
tiptoed  out  into  the  dining-room.  "I've  got  something  I  want 
to  talk  over  with  you  and  Charlotte."  She  closed  the  door  lead 
ing  to  her  grandmother's  room,  drew  up  chairs  to  the  centre- 
table.  "  Sit  down,  please,  and  you  too,  Charlotte.  Here, 
Charlotte." 

Mr.  Drake  folded  his  crippled  body  into  the  capacious  chair 
which  Southward  indicated. 

"I  know  what  it  is,"  Charlotte  burst  out,  before  she  settled 
herself,  "you're  engaged,  Southward." 

"  Guess  again,  Charlotte ! "  Southward  said  with  a  swift  glim 
mer  which  lost  itself  in  seriousness.  "No,  nothing  like  that. 
There's  a  big  German  oculist  in  Boston,"  she  explained  immedi 
ately,  "  one  of  the  most  famous  men  in  his  line  in  the  world. 
I've  come  back  here  to  get  Charlotte  and  take  her  up  to  Boston 
and  have  him  examine  her  eyes." 

Charlotte's  body  jerked  in  a  start  so  convulsive  that  it  jarred 
the  table.  "My  eyes — my — oh,  Southward,  Southward,  do  you 
think  there's  any  chance  that — oh,  do  you  think  there  is?" 

"  I  don't  know,"  Southward  answered  briefly,  "  I  don't  know 
anything.  But  I  want  to  find  out  for  sure.  Anyway  we're  going 
to  take  the  chance.  That's  what  I've  come  home  for.  I  had  a 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  385 

talk  with  Greinschmidt  yesterday  afternoon  in  Boston.  I'd  long- 
distanced  to  make  the  appointment." 

"  Will  it  cost  much  ? "  Mr.  Drake  suggested  cautiously. 

"  No,"  Southward  vouchsafed  non-committally.  "  That's  all 
arranged.  I'll  take  care  of  that.  We'll  go  up  Monday  morn 
ing.  He's  to  examine  you  Tuesday  morning,  Charlotte,  and  then 

if  he  thinks  there's  a  chance,  Wednesday,  he'll Of  course  you 

realise  it  may  mean  an  operation,  Charlotte,  but  it  isn't  dangerous 
or  painful  or  long." 

Charlotte's  hands  clasped,  tugged  one  at  the  other  until  her 
knuckles  showed  white.  "  I  don't  care  what  it  means — or  how 
hard  or  long  or  painful  it  is — if  I  can  only  see  again.  Just  think 
of  it!  To  see  folks — why,  Southward,  I  haven't  ever  really  seen 
you." 

"  Well,  I'm  a  great  sight — believe  me."  Southward's  tone  held 
a  note  of  premeditated  lightness. 

"  Do  you  think  it  will  be  successful,  Southward  ? "  Charlotte's 
question  was  a  plea  for  encouragement. 

"  I  don't  know,"  Southward  answered  inflexibly  again,  "  and 
I'm  not  making  any  guesses.  Of  course  I  hope  for  the  best. 
But,  at  the  worst,  the  operation  will  do  no  harm  and  it  may  do 
all  that  we  want." 

"How  long  will  it  take?"  Mr.  Drake  asked. 

"  About  two  weeks,"  Southward  answered.  "  I'm  going  to  take 
Sue-Salome  up  to  Boston  with  us.  And  I'D  have  Libbie  come 
over  and  stay  here.  There  ought  to  be  more  than  one  of  us  to 
take  care  of  Charlotte,  although  as  I  understand  it,  she  won't 
be  in  any  special  pain.  It's  just  a  matter  of  her  having  company." 

"  You'll  stay  with  me  until  they  take  the  bandages  off,  South 
ward,"  Charlotte  entreated. 

"Ill  stay  with  you  until  you're  able  to  see,"  Southward 
promised,  "  or  you're  in  the  same  condition  that  you're  in  now." 

"  It  will  be  great  to  have  Charlotte  seeing  like  the  rest  of  us," 
Mr.  Drake  said  heartily.  "  That'll  make  some  difference  in  this 
household." 

Charlotte  emitted  a  long  tremubus  sigh.  But  Southward  arose 
and  stretched  and  yawned.  "  I'm  as  tired  as  a  dog.  I'm  going  to 
bed  this  moment  and  you  can  take  my  word  for  it,  I'll  sleep. 
I  expect  you  won't  close  your  eyes  to-night  though,  Charlotte." 

"  I  expect  I  won't,"  Charlotte  answered.  "  But  I  shan't  mind, 

it's  so  wonderful  to  think "  Her  voice  ended  in  another  long 

tremulous  sigh. 

"  I  guess  I'll  get  up  and  go  to  church  to-morrow,"    Southward 


386  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

said,  yawning  again  as  she  started  upstairs.  "  That's  the  quickest 
way  I  know  of  finding  out  what's  happened  in  this  burg  during 
my  absence.  Do  you  want  to  go  too,  Charlotte  ? " 

"Yes,"  Charlotte  answered  mechanically,  rousing  herself  from 
that  vision  her  blind  eyes  saw. 

"  All  right,"  Mr.  Drake  agreed.  "  I'll  harness  up  and  take  you 
two  girls  over.  I  reckon  it  won't  do  me  any  harm  to  go  to  meeting." 

He  waited  until  Charlotte  had  gone  to  bed;  then  came  to 
Southward's  room  for  further  particulars.  Southward  gave  him 
an  explicit  account  of  her  talk  with  Greinschmidt.  "  If  you  need 
extra  money,"  Mr.  Drake  said  as  he  left,  "  don't  hesitate  to  wire 
me,  Southward." 

Southward's  appearance  in  church  the  next  day  made  a  sensa 
tion.  She  sat  in  the  Drake  pew,  well  up  towards  the  front  of  the 
church,  with  Charlotte  drooping  on  one  side  and  Mr.  Drake 
hunched  on  the  other.  She  was  an  apex  during  the  entire  service 
of  surreptitious  scrutiny  from  the  back.  Mrs.  Wallace  surveyed 
her  from  time  to  time  with  her  quick  darting  glances  that  were 
more  like  the  shooting  forward  of  a  forked  tongue  than  the 
exercise  of  vision.  Mrs.  Tubman's  round  good  eye  fixed  upon  her 
while  the  other  oscillated  with  that  swift  revolving  movement 
which,  with  her,  always  indicated  mental  excitement.  Mrs.  Peters 
stared  over  her  nose  at  regular  intervals. 

At  the  door,  a  group  gathered  about  her. 

"  Well,  how  are  you,  Southward  ? "  Mrs.  Wallis  asked. 

"  Oh,  very  well,  thank  you,"  Southward  answered  with  a 
languid  indifference  so  carefully  studied  that  it  amounted  to  a 
direct  insolence. 

"  And  how  is  Hester  ? "  Mrs.  Wallis  went  on,  ignoring  the 
indifference  except  for  one  glance  forked  with  venom.  "  You 
look  kinder  dragged  out — seems  to  me." 

"  Oh,  Hester's  looking  fairly  wonderful,"  Southward  replied. 
"  I've  never  seen  such  a  change  in  any  girl  in  my  life." 

"  We've  heard  about  some  of  the  good  times  you  were  having 
in  New  York."  Mrs.  Wallis  continued  to  hold  the  conversational 
reins.  "  How's  Josie  Caldwell  ? "  she  shot  suddenly. 

"  Very  well  the  last  time  I  saw  her,"  Southward  responded, 
"that  was  in  Shayneford — four  years  ago  last  summer." 

"  Are  you  going  to  stay  for  a  while,  Southward  ? "  Mrs.  Peters 
edged  in,  "  or  are  you  going  right  back  ? " 

"I'm  going  to  stay  only  a  day,"  Southward  rejoined  care 
lessly.  "  Charlotte  and  I  are  going  off  though  for  a  little  trip 
to-morrow." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  387 

"Charlotte!"  Mrs.  Tubman  repeated  bluntly.  "What's  Char 
lotte  going  away  for  ?  " 

"  Just  a  little  vacation,"  Southward  dropped  airily. 

The  girls  had  now  come  down  from  the  choir-loft — Pearl  and 
Pinkie  and  Flora,  Aggie  Bassett  and  Myra  Rowell.  Esther  and 
Mercy  joined  them  at  the  foot  of  the  stairs.  They  surrounded 
Southward. 

"  Do  tell  us  about  New  York !  "  Flora  said.  She  looked  radi 
antly  happy ;  bright-eyed,  pink-cheeked.  "  I  suppose  you've  been 
seeing  a  lot  of  those  people  who  camped  out  here  last  summer  ? " 

"  Oh,  land  yes,"  Southward  was  still  airy.  "  All  the  time.  Yes, 
they've  been  good  to  us  and  they  certainly  know  how  to  live.  It's 
a  gay  life  though." 

"  Yes,  that's  what  we  hear,"  Mrs.  Wallis  managed  to  slip  into 
the  conversation  again.  "  We  get  nothing  but  stories  of  how  gay 
you  are  there." 

"  They  can't  possibly  exaggerate  it,"  Southward  said,  a  faint 
glimmer  coming  into  her  eyes. 

"  Is  Hester  going  to  marry  that  Mr.  Smith  ? "  Mrs.  Peters 
demanded. 

"  If  she  is,"  Southward  answered,  "  she  hasn't  told  me." 

"Well,  is  he  attentive  to  her?"  Mrs.  Tubman  re-enforced  Mrs. 
Peters.  "  Does  he  beau  her  round  ?  " 

"  He's  very  kind  to  us  both,"  Southward  returned.  "  He's  done 
everything  he  can  to  make  our  stay  pleasant.  Yes,  he  takes 
Hester  about.  But  so  doep  Mr.  Fearing.  And  others." 

"How's  that  Mr.  Cam-ron? "  Pearl  inquired.  "He's  about  the 
most  awful  flirt  I  ever  :aet  in  my  life.  I  don't  suppose  there's  an 
instant  in  his  life  that  he's  not  carrying  on  with  at  least  three 
girls." 

Southward  conter. plated  Pearl's  pink-and-white  combination 
of  spite  and  vacuity.  Above  the  patchy  bloom  of  her  cheeks, 
Pearl's  eyes  were  sei.  in  deep  shadows  as  though  she  had  not  slept 
for  a  long  time.  But  back  of  the  gleam  in  her  eyes  showed  an 
emotion  akin  to  the  triun  ph  that  shone  behind  Southward's 
malicious  glimmer.  /  s  the  two  girls  looked  at  each  other  sparks 
of  antagonism  shot  bi.-.k  and  forth. 

"  He  was  in  the  Lost  of  health  and  spirits  when  I  saw  him 
last,"  Southward  replied. 

"  Is  he  coming  down  here  next  summer  ? "  Pearl  inquired 
further. 

"  Says  he  is,"  Southward  answered  with  indifference. 

"  And  that  Miss  Hale  ?  "  Flora  asked  eagerly.     "  How  is  she  ? 


388  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

I  liked  her  better  than  any  of  them.  She  was  always  so  sweet 
to  everybody.  And  so  beautiful.  She  always  looked  kinder  deli 
cate  though.  I  sort  of  thought  she  was  coming  down  with  some 
thing.  I  hope  she's  all  right." 

"  She's  all  right  as  far  as  I  know,"  Southward  responded.  "  But 
she  still  looks  delicate.  She  never  seems  to  be  ill — actually  ill,  I 
mean.  I  think  she's  one  of  those  people  who  don't  ever  look  as 
strong  as  they  really  are.  I  haven't  seen  you,  Flora,  since  the 
great  event.  How  are  you  and  how's  King?  I've  got  a  pair  of 
wedding-gifts  in  my  trunk  from  me  and  Hester.  I'll  come  round 
sometime  late  this  afternoon  and  bring  them  to  you.  Charlotte 
and  I  start  early  to-morrow  morning." 

"  Where  you  going  ? "  Mrs.  Peters  asked  with  an  accent  of 
irritation. 

"  Boston  first,"  Southward  informed  her  briefly.  "  After  that — 
well,  I  don't  know  yet." 

"  How's  that  Mr.  Fearing  ? "  piped  up  little  Mercy  Brewster, 
her  big  eyes  shining  through  her  big  glasses.  "  I  thought  he  was 
simply  grand !  " 

Southward  laughed.  "  He's  well.  I  didn't  know  you  had  a 
crush  on  him,  Mercy ! " 

"  I  didn't  have  a  crush  on  him,"  Mercy  declared  indignantly. 
"  I  thought  he  was  the  most  wonderful  man  I  ever  met  in  my  life, 
though." 

"  That's  a  fine  beginning  for  a  crush,"  Southward  said  en 
couragingly.  "  Want  me  to  take  a  message  to  him,  Mercy  ? " 

"  Yes,"  Mercy  defied  her.    "  Tell  him  to  come  back  here." 

"  How's  that  New  York  widow,"  Mrs.  Wallis  returned  to 
the  charge,  "that  fast-looking  thing  that  used  to  make  up 
so?" 

"  In  the  best  of  health,"  Southward  maintained,  "  as  fast-looking 
as  ever,  quite  as  much  made  up  and  apparently  a  great  success 
socially." 

"  That  mother  of  hers,"  Mrs.  Peters  put  in,  "  Mis'  Boardman — 
worn't  that  the  name? — was  a  queer  thing.  I've  always  wondered 
how  those  two  women  lived." 

"Like  every  other  woman  you  know,"  Southward  answered 
readily,  "  either  on  the  money  that  some  man  gives  them,  husband 
or  father,  or  on  what  they  earn  themselves.  These  ladies  are  both 
widows.  Mrs.  Morrow  is,  I  believe,  independent.  Her  mother 
makes  a  living  selling  antiques." 

"I  never  see  anybody  so  persistent  as  that  Mis'  Boardman," 
Mrs.  Tubman  asserted  with  indignation.  "Every  time  she  saw 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  389 

me,  she  tried  to  get  me  to  sell  her  my  Grandmother  Fletcher's 
melon  chair.  I'd  just  about  as  soon  think  of  selling  Flora." 

"Mrs.  Boardman's  antique  business  seems  to  be  a  big  one," 
Southward  explained.  "  And  she  is  certainly  a  wonder  for  picking 
up  old  furniture  and  making  it  look  lovely.  You  ought  to  see 
what  she  did  with  Gert  Beebee's  bureau." 

"  Oh,  Southward,  what  did  you  and  Hester  say  when  you 
heard  of  Gert  Beebee's  marriage  ? "  Pinkie  Peters  exclaimed. 
"  Weren't  you  surprised  ?  " 

"  Not  especially,"  Southward  said  in  the  languid  tone  which 
in  her  case  often  accompanied  a  direct  lie.  "  We  were  expecting 
something  like  that.  Which  reminds  me  that  I've  got  to  get 
round  to  see  Gert  this  afternoon.  I've  got  wedding-presents  for 
her  too." 

"  Well,"  Aggie  Bassett  contributed  as  the  group  broke  up, 
"  you  can  talk  all  you  want  about  Mr.  Cameron  and  Mr.  Smith 
and  Mr.  Fearing — but  I  think  that  Mr.  O'Reilly  was  the  hand 
somest  man  I  ever  laid  my  eyes  on." 

After  dinner,  that  day,  Southward  took  Charlotte  with  her 
while  she  drove  from  house  to  house  making  her  short,  exciting, 
talk-laden  calls. 

"  Now,  Cap'n,"  she  said  as  she  departed  on  this  expedition, 
"  while  I'm  gone,  you  tell  grandmother  about  what  I'm  going 
to  do  with  Charlotte;  and  answer  as  many  of  her  questions  as  you 
can;  for  I'll  have  to  answer  a  small  million  everywhere  I  go 
this  afternoon." 

But  when  she  returned,  it  was  apparent  that  Mr.  Drake  had 
managed  only  to  stem  the  tide.  She  sat  with  Mrs.  Drake  for 
half  an  hour  and  submitted  to  interrogative  bombardment 
with  the  humorous  patience  which  she  reserved  for  her  grand 
mother  alone.  Afterwards  she  retreated  to  the  dining-room  and 
wrote  letters.  Charlotte  sat  with  Mrs.  Drake.  At  times,  South 
ward's  pen  came  up  and  stopped  as  she  listened,  glimmering,  to 
the  monologue  that  Charlotte  delivered. 

"  We  certainly  have  flaxed  round  this  afternoon,"  Charlotte 
began.  "  First  we  went  to  Mis'  Crowell's  and  Southward  told 
her  every  living,  breathing  thing  she  could  think  of  about  Hester. 
Mis'  Crowell  asked  her  more'n  a  million  questions." 

"  It's  queer  how  many  questions  some  folks  can  ask,"  Mrs. 
Drake  remarked.  "My  sister  Sabry  used  to  say  half  of  them 
jest  asked  them  so's  to  hear  themselves  talk.  They  don't  listen  to 
the  answers  at  all." 


390  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  Southward  was  mighty  good.  She  answered  them  all  just 
as  patient.  And  you  know  how  she  hates  to  answer  questions." 

"  Hardest  girl  to  get  anything  out  of  that  she  don't  want  to  tell 
of  anybody  I  ever  saw  in  my  life,"  Mrs.  Drake  declared. 

"  Mis'  Crowell  thinks  that  that  John  Smith  is  sweet  on  Hester. 
She  didn't  say  so  hut  you  could  see  it,  and  she  tried  every  way 
she  knew  how,  to  make  Southward  say  it.  But  Southward 
wouldn't.  She  didn't  say  he  worn't.  But  I  bet  you  a  hat  she 
doesn't  think  he  is." 

"  Yes,  of  course,  Mis'  Crowell  would  like  that,"  Mrs.  Drake 
murmured.  "  She's  an  awful  proud  woman — Abbie  Crowell.  She'd 
hate  to  have  her  daughter  be  an  old  maid.  What  I'd  like  to 
know,  is  that  Mr.  Cameron  waiting  on  Southward  ? " 

"  Well,  of  course  Southward's  never  said.  You  know  how  she 
is.  But  I  guess  he  is,  fast  enough.  Most  every  man  who's  ever 
seen  her  has  fallen  in  love  with  her." 

"Yes,  she's  very  attractive  to  gentlemen,"  Mrs.  Drake  agreed. 
"  I  was  too  when  I  was  a  young  girl.  Land,  I  could  have  mar 
ried  half  a  dozen.  And  as  for  my  sister  Sabry — I  guess  Sabry 
couldn't  count  the  men  she'd  said  no  to — great  strapping  hand 
some  fellows  too.  Queer,  she'd  marry  a  little  pindling  fellow  like 
Douglas,  now  worn't  it  ?  Where'd  you  go  next  ? " 

"Well,  then  we  went  round  to  Matthew  Hallowell's.  South 
ward  had  a  great  time  there.  She  laughed  and  joked  and  she  told 
Mr.  Hallowell  a  whole  mess  of  stuff  that  I  didn't  understand 
about — meetings  and  things  like  that.  Matthew  just  sat  up  and 
drank  it  down.  He  said  one  queer  thing,  '  Southward,'  he  says, 
'  hare  you  or  Hester  exploded  yet  ? '  And  Southward  says,  '  No,  not 
yet.  We've  been  too  happy  and  we  haven't  had  time.'  And  he 
said  when  he  exploded  from  the  ministry,  it  worn't  a  question  of 
time.  Awful  funny  thing  to  say,  worn't  it?  Exploded!  Then 
from  there,  we  went  to  Flora  Tubman's — I  mean  Curtis — seems  as 
if  I  never  could  remember  her  married  name — and  Southward  left 
the  wedding-presents.  Flora  was  tickled  to  death  with  the  bread- 
and-butter  plates — and  I  guess  they  were  handsome  from  what 
folks  say.  I  never  saw  Mis'  Tubman  more  pleasant  to  Southward. 
Then  from  there  we  went  to  Gertie  Beebee's — I  mean  Gertie 
Welch's.  Don't  it  seem  queer  her  having  another  name?  Well, 
she  and  Southward  just  talked  and  talked.  You  could  scarcely 
hear  what  they  was  saying,  they  went  so  fast  and  laughed  so 
much.  The  baby  was  asleep  when  we  got  there  but  it  woke  up 
before  we  left.  Gertie  said  Southward  had  got  to  hold  the  baby 
or  she'd  be  mad.  Southward  said  she'd  rather  hold  a  rattlesnake, 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  391 

but  Gertie  jest  dumped  it  right  down  in  her  lap.  Of  course  I 
couldn't  see  what  they  was  doing  but  I  was  afraid  they'd  hurt  the 
baby  between  them.  Southward  didn't  seem  to  mind  it  so  much, 
once  she  got  the  baby  in  her  arms.  But  she  didn't  hold  it  very 
long.  She  handed  him  over  to  me.  My  grief,  but  he's  a  strong 
little  tyke!  He  hit  with  his  hand  against  my  face  as  hard  as 
though  he  was  beating  a  drum.  And  once  he  got  hold  of  my 
hair  and  Gertie  had  to  take  him  away,  he  pulled  it  so.  Gertie 
was  tickled  to  death  too  with  the  wedding-presents  Southward 
and  Hester  sent  her.  She  put  the  tea-set  on  the  table  in  the 
parlour  and  said  she  was  going  to  have  tea  every  afternoon  just 
like  the  swells  and  she  and  Southward  hung  the  picture  Hester 
gave  her.  She  said  she  was  awful  sorry  that  Buster — as  she  calls 
him — was  away.  Seems  he's  in  training — that  means  getting 
ready  for  one  of  those  prize-fights.  They  have  to  do  exercises  all 
the  time  and  they  can't  eat  only  certain  things  and  go  to  bed  at 
a  regular  time  and  their  wives  never  go  to  stay  with  them — must 
be  an  awful  dull  time  for  him.  Southward  said  she  was  going 
to  ask  him  to  teach  her  how  to  box  sometime.  She  said  she  could 
shoot  a  gun  and  why  shouldn't  she  know  how  to  use  her  fists. 
Ain't  Southward  the  queer  creature?  But  she's  the  best  girl  I 
ever  knew,"  she  added  loyally. 

Mrs.  Drake  asked  many  questions.  Charlotte  filled  in  these 
free  outlines  with  a  mass  of  disconnected  detail.  Mrs.  Drake 
drank  her  narrative  down  as  though  it  were  a  rare  wine. 

After  a  while  Southward  gave  her  whole  attention  to  her  letters. 

"  Dear  Hetter,"  the  first  one,  which  was  brief,  began,  "  I've  seen 
your  mother  and  she's  well,  in  the  best  of  spirits.  Of  course  she 
asked  a  billion  questions  and  I  answered  with  more  patience  than 
I  have  shown  in  the  whole  course  of  my  life  before.  She  said 
again  and  again  that  you  were  not  to  come  home  until  you 
wanted  to.  She  said  if  your  money  gave  out,  she  would  send 
you  another  hundred  dollars.  Of  course  it  was  all  I  could  do  to 
keep  from  breaking  out  in  wild  whoops  of  joy  when  I  heard 
that.  We're  going  to  stay — you  bet!  To-morrow  Charlotte  and 
I  start  on  our  great  surgical  adventure.  You  can  have  some  idea 
of  my  state  of  mind  in  regard  to  it,  when  I  tell  you  that  every 
time  I  think  of  it,  I  come  as  close  to  praying  as  I  ever  have  come 
since  I  stopped  demanding  gifts  of  the  Almighty.  I  will  let  you 
know  how  things  are  going." 

The  second  letter  was  long.  It  was  to  Dwight.  It  began  with 
a  careful  but  succinct  account  of  her  talk  with  Greinschmidt. 


392  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

But  from  that  point  it  spread  to  many  things.  It  ended,  "I 
expect  to  be  back  in  three  weeks  at  the  latest." 

Two  days  later,  Dr.  Greinschmidt  made  his  examination  of 
Charlotte. 

"It's  a  slow-growing  tumour,"  Southward  wrote  in  half  a 
dozen  letters,  "on  the  brain,  pressing  on  the  optic  nerve.  Dr. 
Greinschmidt's  operation  is  a  new  one  made  through  the  nasal 
passage.  The  old  operation  was  bloody  and  in  many  ways  more 
dangerous,  as  the  brain  had  to  be  lifted  up  and  the  operator 
worked  more  in  the  dark.  It  also  left  a  scar.  In  this  new 
operation,  made  by  lifting  the  lip,  the  operator  gets  a  clearer 
vision;  there's  a  thinner  plate  of  bone  to  pierce  and  he  comes  into 
more  immediate  contact  with  the  tumour;  less  bleeding,  irrita 
tion,  and  destruction  of  tissue.  Greinschmidt  will  say  nothing 
encouraging,  but  I  know  he's  hopeful." 

The  next  day,  the  operation  was  performed,  pronounced  suc 
cessful. 

A  week  later,  Southward  took  Charlotte  to  Shayneford  in  a 
closed  limousine.  A  nurse  accompanied  them.  At  the  end  of 
of  another  week,  the  nurse  removed  the  bandages. 

Charlotte  saw. 


CHAPTER  XXV 

CHARLOTTE'S  recovery  was  a  little  better  than  normal.  After  the 
first  two  weeks,  Southward  and  Sue-Salome  between  them  under 
took  the  care  of  her.  Each  day  lightened  this  task.  And  now  that 
she  had  accomplished  her  great  feat,  Southward's  characteristic 
restlessness,  informed  by  some  emotion  obviously  deeper,  took  pos 
session  of  her. 

"  How  much  longer  you  going  to  stay,  Southward  ? "  Mrs.  Drake 
asked  once. 

"  About  a  week,"  Southward  answered.  But,  "  I  don't  think 
I'll  stay  the  whole  week  out,"  she  said  at  breakfast-table  Sunday 
morning.  "  Charlotte  is  doing  so  well  and  Sue-Salome  is  proving 
so  capable  and  ready  for  anything.  She's  much  better  for  her 
than  I  am.  I'm  such  an  energetic  thing.  Besides  there's  a  lot  of 
things  I  should  be  attending  to  in  New  York.  I  think  I'll  go 
Friday." 

"  You'll  be  down  pretty  soon,  I  expect,"  Mr.  Drake  said. 

"  Pretty  soon,"  Southward  returned  evasively.  "  I  think  I  won't 
stay  until  Friday,"  she  said  next  morning.  "  I  do  feel  as  if  I 
ought  to  go  back  to  New  York.  I  guess  I'll  go  Thursday." 

But  Wednesday  morning,  when  she  came  down  to  breakfast,  she 
was  dressed  with  particular  care.  "  I  think  I'll  take  the  morning 
train  up.  I'll  just  catch  the  Limited." 

"  Well,  I  guessed  you'd  go  before  you  said,"  Mr.  Drake  com 
mented  in  a  tone  of  resignation.  "  I  could  see  you  were  as  restless 
as  you  could  be." 

"  I'm  kinder  glad  you're  going,"  Mrs.  Drake  unexpectedly  in 
formed  her.  "  For  I  feel  the  sooner  you  get  back  there,  the  sooner 
you'll  get  back  here." 

Charlotte's  farewell  was  more  protracted,  interrupted  by  tears 
and  many  broken  expressions  of  gratitude. 

The  arrangement  was  that  Sue-Salome  was  to  stay  as  long  as 
Charlotte  needed  her. 

Southward  was  silent  in  the  carriage  during  the  drive  to  the 
station,  only  breaking  her  grandfather's  monologue  with  the  yes 
or  no  that  it  required.  She  sat  by  the  window  all  the  way  to 
Boston,  an  elbow  resting  on  the  sill,  her  chin  peaked  in  her  hand. 

393 


394  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

It  was  apparent,  though,  that  her  eyes  saw  nothing  of  the  whirling 
scene  on  which  they  rested.  A  something  dominated  her  which 
anybody  studying  her  would  have  found  there  all  the  time  since 
her  return  from  New  York.  With  people  about,  that  something 
lingered  in  the  background  of  her  spirit;  flashed  through  occa 
sionally  but  only  in  an  increased  and  more  abrupt  vivacity.  Alone, 
it  showed  itself  in  sudden  starts,  in  quick  leaps  to  her  feet,  in 
prolonged  pacing  of  the  floor.  To-day  it  came  to  the  surface  in 
a  succession  of  smiles  that  seemed  to  tear  their  way  to  her  lips; 
in  a  constant  joyous  humming;  in  the  assurance,  doubly  assured, 
of  her  whole  attitude. 

That  something  was  triumph. 

To  a  close  observer,  that  triumph  should  have  been  visible  the 
day  she  arrived  in  Shayneford.  It  grew  steadily  every  day  of  her 
stay  there.  It  became  almost  a  paBan  of  the  spirit — evidenced  in 
her  brilliant  eyes  and  her  rippling  lips — when  each  night  she  re 
turned  from  the  Post  Office  to  her  garret  and  read  there  the  long 
letter  she  received  from  Dwight. 

When  she  boarded  the  New  York  train,  excitement  re-enforced 
this  certainty  of  triumph.  Palpably  she  tried  to  control  it.  It  kept 
getting  beyond  her  however.  Her  feet  began  to  tap  the  floor  as  her 
patience  exploded  in  volleys  of  abrupt  movements.  She  drifted 
from  one  side  of  the  car  to  the  other;  looked  out  of  this  window, 
then  another.  She  bought  magazines  and  tried  to  read  them.  But 
her  efforts  ended  in  an  absent  scrutiny  of  the  illustrations.  In 
the  dining-car  she  prolonged  the  business  of  eating  as  long  as 
possible  and  succeeded  admirably  considering  how  little  she  ate. 
Once  she  actually  drummed  on  the  window-pane  until  the  violent 
tattoo  she  was  producing  penetrated  even  her  own  consciousness 
and  she  stopped  abruptly.  At  the  Hundred  and  Twenty-fifth  Street 
station  she  put  on  her  hat  and  gloves;  stood  on  the  platform  of 
the  car  during  the  slow  toilsome  progress  downtown  through  the 
tunnel  and  into  the  Grand  Central  Station.  But  once  in  the 
street  she  drew  into  her  lungs  a  long  deep  breath  of  New  York  air. 
When  that  deep  inspiration  left  her  lips,  it  seemed  to  bear  with 
it  all  her  restlessness;  only  triumph  remained.  She  leaped  into 
a  taxi;  gave  the  address  of  the  model  tenement;  relaxed  and  sat 
lazily  swaying  to  the  motion,  her  eyes  glued  to  the  flashing  New 
York  scene,  her  lips  smiling,  her  eyes  sparkling. 

At  the  outer  door,  her  finger  hovered  an  instant  over  the  buzzer. 
Then  with  a  mischievous  glimmer,  she  withdrew  it.  She  felt  for 
the  key  in  the  little  handbag  she  carried ;  opened  the  door.  Despite 
the  weight  of  the  suitcase,  she  fairly  bounded  up  the  stairs.  At 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  395 

her  own  door,  however,  all  speed  went  out  of  her.  She  put  the  suit 
case  down  with  exquisite  care ;  noiselessly  fitted  the  key  in  the  lock ; 
silently  lifted  the  suitcase  over  the  threshold,  left  it  there.  Still 
without  a  sound  she  closed  the  door  and  tiptoed  down  the  hall. 
She  glanced  into  her  own  empty  room  as  she  passed;  glanced  into 
Hester's.  She  advanced  to  the  kitchen  doorway,  her  hand  putting 
the  key  in  her  bag. 

There  she  stopped  stockstill,  petrified. 

Dwight  and  Azile  stood  together  in  the  middle  of  the  room, 
Dwight's  arms  were  about  Azile ;  her  head  touched  his  shoulder,  his 
lips  swept  her  hair.  Southward's  hand  clutched  something  inside 
her  bag  with  a  convulsive  grip.  As  though  that  movement  made 
sound,  Dwight  looked  up.  He  stared  at  Southward,  equally  petri 
fied,  except  that  mechanically  his  arms  fell  away  from  Azile. 

Azile  turned  too,  and  as  she  looked  into  Southward's  face  so 
blackly  still  and  set,  her  own  face  blanched. 

And  then  Southward's  hand  flashed  out  of  her  bag,  levelled  what 
she  had  clutched  there. 

Southward's  shot  and  Azile's  scream  came  simultaneously. 
Dwight  swayed  and  fell  backwards  on  the  couch,  carrying  Azile 
with  him.  Southward  turned.  As  noiselessly  as  she  had  come  into 
the  place,  she  sped  away  from  it. 

She  picked  up  her  suitcase  as  she  ran. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE  next  morning  Southward  alighted  from  the  train  in  the 
Shayneford  station.  Lysander  was  standing  at  the  end  of  the 
platform  holding  his  horse's  bit.  Late  in  the  season  as  it  was — the 
middle  of  April — a  sudden  change  in  atmosphere  had  brought  the 
fall  of  an  inch  or  two  of  snow.  Lysander  did  not  hear  South 
ward's  approach  over  the  snowy  platform.  He  stood  moodily  gazing 
in  the  other  direction.  Southward  touched  him  on  the  shoulder. 

"  Good  Lord,  Southward !  "  he  exclaimed,  "  where  did  you  come 
from?  I  thought  you  were  in  New  York." 

"  No,"  said  Southward  smoothly,  glancing  at  the  few  people  who 
had  alighted  from  the  train  and  were  filing  past.  "  I  didn't  go  to 
New  York  after  all."  She  talked  with  great  clearness.  "  I  went 
as  far  as  Boston  and  then  I  got  worried  about  Charlotte.  I  decided 
to  come  back  and  stay  until  she  was  perfectly  well." 

"  Well,  she's  doing  fine  from  all  I  hear,"  Lysander  assured  her. 
"  I  haven't  seen  her  yet — didn't  get  home  myself  until  yesterday. 
Get  into  the  wagon,  Southward.  I'll  take  you  home." 

"  Thanks,"  Southward  said  carelessly.  And  she  climbed  into 
the  buggy,  settled  herself  as  far  back  in  the  corner  as  she  could  get. 
"  I  don't  want  anybody  to  see  me  if  possible.  I  don't  want  to 
have  to  answer  the  million  questions  they'll  ask."  Leaning  her 
head  back  against  the  buggy  hood,  she  closed  her  eyes. 

"  You  look  tired,  Southward,"  Lysander  commented.  "  Didn't 
you  have  a  good  trip  ?  " 

"  I  didn't  sleep  very  well,"  Southward  admitted,  "  last  night  in 
Boston.  Funny  our  having  a  snowstorm  so  late.  I  guess  it's  the 
record,  isn't  it?  Beginning  to  melt  already." 

"  Yes,  this  is  the  latest  snow  I  ever  saw,"  Lysander  agreed.  "  It 
isn't  the  record  though.  My  mother  saw  a  snowstorm  in  Shayne 
ford  on  the  first  of  May  once." 

He  started  to  turn  in  the  direction  of  Long  Lanes.  Southward 
raised  herself. 

"  I  wish  you'd  take  me  over  to  Matt's  first,  Lysander.  I  want 
to  talk  with  him  for  a  few  minutes.  And  I'd  like  you  to  be 
there." 

"  All  right."  Lysander  added  after  a  moment,  "  Nothing  wrong, 
is  there,  Southward  ?  " 

Southward  did  not  answer  this  question.    And  Lysander  did  not 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  397 

speak  again.  He  shot  one  or  two  stealthy  looks  at  her.  Southward 
now  lay  as  still  in  her  corner  as  though  frozen  there.  Her  eyelids 
down,  her  mouth  set  close,  she  was  without  colour  or  expression. 
Even  her  lips  were  putty.  The  effect  of  the  disappearance  of 
its  rose-values  was  to  bring  out  in  a  curious  way  the  fineness  of 
her  skin.  Her  black  eyelashes  were  so  still  that  they  might  have 
been  painted  on  that  smooth,  dark  texture. 

"  Here  we  are,  Southward,"  Lysander  said  at  last. 

Southward  roused  herself  with  something  of  her  customary  alert 
ness;  leaped  out  of  the  carriage,  ran  swiftly  up  the  steps,  along 
the  walk  to  the  piazza. 

"Please  come  in,  Lysander,"  she  flung  back  over  her  shoulder. 
And  Lysander  followed  her. 

Matthew  Hallowell,  surrounded  by  his  archipelago  of  chairs  and 
tables,  had  already  begun  work.  Stacks  of  papers  covered  the 
tables;  piles  of  note-books  the  chairs.  Files  of  books  slanted  from 
the  bookcases  along  the  carpet  in  his  direction,  as  though  they 
were  charging  him.  The  sunlight  flooded  through  the  long  French 
windows,  sparkled  on  his  thick  upstanding  silver  hair  and  in  his 
frosty  kindly  blue  eyes. 

"  Well,  Southward !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  Back  again  ?  You  just 
spin  between  Shaynef  ord  and  New  York  these  days,  don't  you  ?  " 

Southward  ignored  this.  "  Mrs.  Cahoon  isn't  in  the  kitchen, 
is  she,  Matt  ? "  she  asked. 

"  No,  she's  gone  to  her  sister's  as  usual,"  Matthew  answered. 
"  She'll  be  here  later.  Why  ? " 

"  Are  you  alone  in  the  house,  Matt  ? " 

"  Yes.     Why  ?    Anything  wrong  ?  " 

"  I'll  tell  you,"  Southward  assured  him.    "  Sit  down,  Lysander." 

Lysander  who  had  stood  impassive  through  this  dialogue  took 
a  chair.  Hallowell  had  not  risen.  Southward  continued  to  stand. 

"  I  shot  Dwight  Cameron  yesterday  in  our  apartment  in  New 
York,"  Southward  said  clearly.  "  I  don't  think  I  killed  him, 
because  there  was  nothing  about  it  in  any  of  the  papers  this 
morning.  I  think  he  will  die  though.  I  shot  to  kill — and  I  know 
how  to  shoot." 

Her  listeners  did  not  stir  or  speak.  But  the  intense  gaze  that 
they  had  fixed  on  her,  at  her  first  words,  held  there  as  though 
by  an  irresistible  attraction.  Lysander's  colour  did  not  change 
perceptibly.  But  Hallowell  grew  ashen.  "  Are  you  crazy,  South 
ward?"  he  demanded.  But  this  was  palpably  the  first  ejaculation 
of  shock. 

"  I'm  telling  you  the  exact  truth.    I  got  to  the  apartment  unex- 


398  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

pectedly,  not  knowing  he  was  there,  thinking  I  would  see  Hester. 
I  opened  the  door  without  making  any  noise  and  tiptoed  into  the 
kitchen,  meaning  to  surprise  her.  Hester  wasn't  there.  I  don't 
know  where  she  was.  But  he  was  there.  How  I  can't  understand. 

But  in  circumstances  that Well,  I  shot  him  through  the 

chest.  I  aimed  for  his  heart." 

She  opened  the  little  handbag  she  still  carried,  thrust  her  hand 
into  it,  and  withdrew  a  revolver.  While  she  spoke,  she  broke  it 
and  dropped  four  small  cartridges  onto  the  table.  She  counted 
them  as  they  fell.  "  The  other  one's  in  him." 

"  God!  "  Hallowell  groaned. 

Lysander  emitted  a  queer  sound  that,  with  another  emotion 
driving  back  of  it,  might  have  been  a  laugh. 

"  I  taught  you  to  shoot,"  he  said,  "  and  I  gave  you  that  re 
volver.  Give  it  to  me." 

"  No.    I'll  keep  it." 

"  Before  God  you  won't ! "  Lysander  ground  between  his  teeth. 
He  sprang  suddenly  upon  her  and  seized  the  hand  that  held  the 
revolver. 

Southward  did  not  resist.  Only  her  hand  closed  on  the  butt. 
"  Listen  to  me,  Lysander."  Her  tone  was  low  but  clear.  "  The 
game's  up.  If  he's  dead  I'm  done  for.  They'll  look  here 
the  first  thing.  I'm  not  running  away.  I  came  to  you  two  because 
you  are  the  only  real  friends  I  have  in  this  town  and  I  wanted 
somebody  to  have  the  story  straight.  And  then  when  the  big 
explosion  comes,  I  want  you,  Matt,  to  explain  it  to  the  people  at 
home.  And  I  want  you,  Lysander,  to  keep  this  gang  of  hell-cats 
down  here  off  them." 

"  I'll  do  that,"  Lysander  promised  grimly.  He  loosened  his  grip 
on  Southward.  "  But  what  about  self-defence,  Southward  ?  You 
shot  him  because  he " 

"I  shot  him,"  Southward  finished  his  sentence  for  him,  "be 
cause  at  that  moment  I  hated  him  more  than  any  human  being  I 
ever  saw  in  my  life.  There's  nothing  in  the  self-defence  theory, 
Lysander.  There  was  a  witness." 

"  Man  or  woman  ?  "  Lysander  asked. 

"Woman,"  Southward  answered  briefly. 

"  God  damn  it !  "  Lysander  started  out  of  his  chair.  "  Can't 
I  go  over  there  and  get  to  her  ? " 

"  Not  very  easily,"  Southward  replied.  "  She'd  hang  me  with 
her  own  hands  if  she  could." 

Southward  sat  down.  She  was  still  cool.  "  I  came  here,  Matt, 
for  another  reason.  I  want  to  ask  a  favour.  I  want  you  to  let 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  399 

them  arrest  me  here.  It  will  be  an  awful  shock  to  poor  grand 
mother.  Grandfather  will  take  it  pretty  hard  too.  But  he'll 
understand.  He  knows  in  his  own  case  what  the  Drake  temper 
will  do.  I  have  always  felt  that  my  temper  would  be  my  ruin, 

but  I  didn't  think Then  there's  poor  Charlotte.  Oh,  I'm  so 

glad  I  got  her  eyes  fixed  up  before  this  happened!  What  I  want 
to  do,  Matthew,  is  to  stay  right  here  until  they  come  for  me.  No 
detectives  were  on  my  train.  I'm  sure  of  that.  They'll  get  here 
on  the  afternoon  train.  Of  course  they'll  go  first  to  Long  Lanes. 
Then  they'll  search  the  town.  Only  a  few  people  saw  me  get  into 
the  buggy  with  Lysander.  But  by  this  time  half  the  town  knows 
that  I'm  back  again  and  wondering  what's  the  answer.  All  they've 
got  to  do  is  trace  Lysander.  You  don't  have  to  stay,  Ly,"  she 
concluded. 

"I'll  stay,"  Lysander  said  briefly;  and  thought  hard.  "South 
ward,"  he  burst  out  in  another  instant,  "  I  think  we  can  beat 
them  yet.  Let's  take  what  food  and  money  Matthew's  got  in  the 
house  and  drive  over  to  the  Shayneford  woods.  I'll  leave  the 
carriage  anywhere  along  the  road.  I'm  sure  I  can  get  you  across 
the  Cape  and  into  a  boat  somewhere." 

"  Can't  be  done,  Ly,"  Southward  decided  decisively.  "  The  whole 
place  will  be  roused.  Everybody  would  be  beating  the  woods  first 
thing.  No.  I  thought  it  all  out  last  night.  We  could  delay  the 
inevitable  one  day,  or  two,  perhaps  three.  I'll  admit  I'd  attempt 
it  quick  as  a  wink  if  we  could  get  away  with  it.  But  we  can't.  So 
I'll  pull  it  off  with  as  much  dignity  as  possible."  She  turned  to 
Hallowell.  "  You've  always  said,  Matt,  that  Hester  and  I  would 
explode  sometime.  I've  done  it,  you  see." 

Hallowell's  underlip  quivered  like  a  child's.  Southward  went 
to  him ;  threw  her  arms  about  his  neck.  "  Fm  sorry  to  have  put 
you  in  this  situation,  Matt.  But  I  did  think  you'd  be  willing  to 
do  it  for  me.  You  are,  aren't  you  ? " 

"  Of  course  I  am,"  Hallowell  said  with  an  emphasis  that  rang 
through  the  tremble  in  his  voice.  "  Of  course  I  am.  How  I  wish 
I  could  save  you,  my  poor  child." 

"  Nobody  can  do  that."  Southward  disengaged  herself  lightly ; 
took  off  her  hat  and  coat.  "  Now  I've  told  you  all — not  all  there 
is  to  tell — but  all  I  can  tell — as  much  as  I  shall  ever  tell  anybody — 
and  more  than  I  shall  ever  tell  my  lawyer  or  the  jury.  Let's 
dismiss  the  subject  and  busy  ourselves  with  other  things.  Re 
member  that  one  thing  I  have  told  you,  you  must  never  tell  to 
any  living  human  being — that  there  was  a  woman  there.  There's 
no  reason  why  she  should  be  drawn  into  it.  You  swear,  Matthew  ? " 


400  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  I  swear,"  Hallowell  answered. 

"And  you,  Ly?" 

"  I  swear  too,"  Lysander  replied. 

"Very  well  then,"  Southward  commented.  "That's  all.  Will 
you  let  me  help  you  work  the  rest  of  the  morning,  Matt  ? " 

"  How  can  I  work  ? "  Hallowell  asked.  Two  big  tears  rolled 
down  his  wrinkled  cheeks. 

"  We  can't  sit  here  and  just  look  at  each  other,"  Southward 
maintained  inflexibly.  "  It  will  be  easier  after  you  get  started. 
Come,  Matt,  read  me  what  you've  written.  And  when  you  need 
your  next  reference,  I'll  look  it  up  and  verify  it." 

By  dint  of  her  insistence,  her  dominating  will-power,  her 
capacity  for  concentration,  she  finally  got  Hallowell  into  his  work, 
though  he  made  one  or  two  false  starts.  She  looked  up  references 
for  him;  read  passages  from  various  authorities;  took  notes  that 
he  dictated.  She  asked  him  to  dismiss  the  delighted  Mrs.  Cahoon 
and  she  herself  prepared  lunch  for  the  two  men.  Afterwards  they 
went  to  work  again.  Lysander  in  the  meantime  sat  stark  and 
still  as  a  statue,  staring  blankly  out  the  window  from  across  the 
room;  or  examined  the  magazines  that  lay  on  the  table;  or  pulled 
books  from  the  shelves  and  tried  to  interest  himself  in  their 
contents.  His  efforts  were  much  less  successful  than  South 
ward's.  The  crisp  noon  began  to  fade  to  mid-afternoon. 

"  That  train  will  be  in  in  half  an  hour,"  Southward  said  sud 
denly.  "  I  shouldn't  say  that  there'd  be  more  than  an  hour  of  this 
waiting." 

Ten  minutes  later  Lysander  jumped  to  his  feet.  "  Here  comes 
Bud  Crosby's  boy  on  a  bicycle.  He  always  brings  telegrams.  Yes, 
he's  stopping  here.  You'd  better  go  to  the  door,  Matt.  Don't  say 
anything  about  Southward's  being  here." 

Hallowell  obediently  opened  the  front  door.  From  the  window, 
Southward  and  Lysander  watched  him  receive  a  little  yellow  en 
velope  and  sign  for  it.  He  came  back  into  the  living-room,  tearing 
futilely  at  the  flap  with  his  trembling  old  fingers.  Lysander  seized 
it  and  tore  it  open  in  a  single  vigorous  gesture;  handed  it  back. 

"It's  from  John  Smith,"  Hallowell  said.  He  read,  "'Tell 
Southward  everything  all  right  here.  Jungle  Doc  on  the  case.  Pa 
tient  doing  well.  Serious  but  not  fatal.  Shoulder.  Will  telegraph 
every  day.' "  He  looked  over  his  telegram  and  over  his  glasses  at 
Southward.  Lysander  turned  and  looked  too.  And  as  they 
looked,  Southward  crumpled  slowly  and  fell  in  a  heap  on  the  floor. 

Half  an  hour  later,  "  Now  take  me  home,  Ly,"  Southward 
ordered,  "  I've  got  to  get  some  rest  as  soon  as  possible." 


THE  LADY  OP  KINGDOMS  401 

Characteristically  however,  she  stopped  and  put  the  revolver  with 
the  four  cartridges  in  her  bag. 

"  I  hope  you  won't  ever  carry  that  gun  again,  Southward," 
Lysander  said.  "Perhaps  I'm  not  sorry  I  gave  it  to  you." 

"  I  shall  never  carry  it  again,"  Southward  promised.  "  You  may 
be  sure  of  that." 

She  disdained  Lysander's  proffered  assistance  down  the  path, 
and  when  it  came  to  getting  into  the  carriage.  But  once  there, 
she  fell  in  a  limp  heap  in  the  corner. 

"  Don't  take  me  right  home  after  all,  Ly,"  she  begged,  and  her 
voice  began  to  break.  "  I'm  not  equal  to  seeing  them  yet.  I  can't 
talk  with  anybody.  I'm  at  the  end  of  my  rope.  Drive  off  down 
the  lower  road  somewhere — take  that  lane  that  leads  to  West 
Shayneford.  We  won't  see  anybody  there.  That's  right.  Whip 
him  up  I  You  don't  know  what  I've  been  through.  I've  lived  in 
hell  for  a  day  and  a  half.  If  I  had  a  drug  I'd  take  it  to-night — 
I  don't  want  to  think — I  want  to  sleep  for  days  and  days — I  don't 
want  to  think  about  myself."  She  sobbed. 

"  I'm  a  terrible  woman,  Ly — I'm  a  dangerous  woman — any  Drake 
is  dangerous — that  Drake  temper  makes  dynamiters  of  us — when 
I  think  of  grandfather's  record — when  I  think  what  I've  done — my 
heart  turns  over — my  blood  turns  to  water — I'm  frightened,  Ly 
sander — I'm  afraid  of  myself.  I  feel  as  if  I  were  possessed  by 
mania — I  can't  count  on  myself  any  more — I  don't  know  what  I'll 
do  next — I've  just  missed  being  a  .murderess." 

Her  pants  of  breath  were  coming  thicker  and  faster.  The  tears 
were  pouring  down  her  face.  For  a  moment  sobs  choked  her 
utterance.  She  struggled  with  her  own  words,  seemed  to  strangle 
over  them.  Lysander  took  advantage  of  this  interval  to  whip  up 
his  horse  again.  They  flew  through  the  main  street;  turned  into 
the  lower  road  and  then  into  the  little  wooded  lane  that  South 
ward  had  suggested.  Lysander  threw  a  steadying  arm  about  her 
waist.  And  all  the  time  she  was  talking. 

"  I  don't  know  what's  going  to  become  of  me — I  don't  know 
where  I'll  end  up — I've  proved  that  I  can't  be  trusted — I  need  a 
master — I  need  a  strong  hand — I've  never  had  that — I've  never 
known  a  father — or  a  mother — grandfather's  never  crossed  me — 
and  I  could  always  wind  grandmother  round  my  finger — and 
Charlotte's  always  been  my  care  rather  than  me  hers — I  never  got 
along  with  my  teachers — I  was  always  wilful  and  headstrong  and 
disobedient — I've  gloried  in  my  ability  to  get  my  own  way — I're 
ridden  roughshod  over  everybody  in  this  town — everybody  except 
Hester — I've  never  considered  anybody's  feelings  but  my  own — I 


402  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

don't  know  what  it  is  to  think  of  anybody  but  myself — I'm  fright 
ened  to  death — I  don't  know  what's  going  to  happen  to  me — save 
me,  Lysander — save  me — save  me — I've  refused  you  a  hundred 
times — but  I'm  sorry  now — marry  me,  Lysander — please  marry 
me — for  God's  sake,  marry  me." 

Lysander  withdrew  his  arm  from  Southward's  waist.  He 
propped  her  in  the  corner  so  that  her  drooping  head  was  trans 
ferred  from  his  shoulder  to  the  buggy-hood.  "  Cut  this  out,  South 
ward  !  "  he  commanded.  "  You'll  be  in  no  shape  to  go  home  for 
another  hour  if  you  don't  get  together." 

"  Marry  me,"  Southward  begged.  "  I  want  you  to  marry  me, 
Lysander." 

Lysander  started  as  though  he  had  been  shot  by  one  of  South 
ward's  own  remorseless  bullets.  He  stiffened.  Then  again  he 
dropped  what  with  another  emotion  back  of  it  might  have  been 
a  laugh.  "  My  God,  I'd  forgotten  clean,"  he  muttered.  "  I've  got 
to  tell  you  something,  Southward.  It's  a  secret  now.  But  every- 
body'll  know  to-morrow.  This  day's  doings  has  put  it  out  of  my 
head  completely.  But  I  went  over  to  Plymouth  last  night  with 
Pearl  Wallis  and  we  got  married." 

The  sun  was  just  setting  when  Southward  came  walking  up  the 
North  Lane  to  the  house.  As  she  entered  the  clearing  in  which 
stood  garden,  orchard,  and  between  them  the  big  Drake  mansion, 
the  west  light  was  besieging  the  house.  Southward  stopped  as 
instantly  as  though  somebody  had  called  her  name.  She  stood 
for  a  moment,  staring  dully. 

The  snow  had  not  entirely  melted.  It  lay  lightly  over  the  roof 
and  cornices.  It  glittered  under  the  urge  of  the  light.  It  ren 
dered  more  brilliant  the  peacock-green  of  the  old  doors  and 
blinds  and  it  made  more  velvety  the  grey-white  of  the 
old  clapboards.  The  windows  were  all  ablaze,  as  though  liquid 
fire  were  flooding  from  the  inside  out.  It  was  very  still.  The  box- 
hedges  were  moveless  under  their  frail  fleecy  coverlets.  The 
pointed  firs,  still  whitely  powdered  on  their  shady  sides,  did  not 
stir.  As  Southward  stared,  a  bird  detached  himself  from  the 
wistaria  vine  and  flew  through  the  air,  trailing  a  sEeaf  of  gay 
notes.  It  was  the  only  sound ;  the  air  seemed  to  close  over  it.  The 
venerable  house,  beset  both  by  spring  and  winter  and  beleaguered 
by  the  sunset  light,  stood  mute,  the  prey  of  all  these  influences. 
Never  before  though  had  it  been  more  dominatingly  itself; 
poignant  and  magnificent  at  once. 

She  made  a  brief  explanation — her  worry  about  Charlotte — of 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  403 

her  swift  return  from  New  York;  assured  herself  of  Charlotte's 
improvement;  helped  Sue-Salome  with  the  dishes;  talked  as  usual 
with  her  grandmother  after  dinner.  At  nine  she  said  she  was 
tired.  Lighting  her  one  candle  and  ignoring  their  protests  that 
it  would  be  too  cold,  she  proceeded  to  the  garret. 

It  was  cold.  Southward  lighted  a  little  kerosene  stove,  let  it 
burn  for  an  hour.  She  piled  extra  blankets  on  her  couch.  Once 
in  bed,  she  sank  into  a  stupor  which  rapidly  became  sleep.  An 
hour  later  she  awoke  with  a  start,  lay  tossing  restlessly;  got  up. 
She  lighted  her  candle,  and,  holding  it  in  her  hand,  hunted  among 
the  clothes  which  she  had  thrown  restlessly  hither  and  thither. 
Finally  her  eyes  fixed  on  her  handbag.  She  began  to  tremble  but 
she  opened  it  and  took  out  the  revolver.  She  put  this  on  the  table, 
while  with  fingers  that  grew  more  and  more  shaky  she  fumbled 
at  the  bottom  of  her  bag.  Finally  she  drew  out  the  four  cartridges. 

Picking  the  revolver  up,  she  moved  over  to  the  desk.  She  pulled 
down  the  slant  top  and  removed  a  little  drawer  that  stood  between 
the  rows  of  pigeonholes.  Back  of  this  drawer  appeared  another 
drawer.  She  removed  that.  In  the  depths  of  the  new  aperture 
gleamed  a  little  brass  spring.  She  pressed  it.  The  bottom  of 
the  aperture  flew  open,  revealing  a  second  aperture.  With  a  hand 
which  shook  violently  as  the  result  of  the  shudders  now  tearing 
her  whole  body,  she  deposited  the  revolver  in  the  secret  chamber 
and,  one  by  one  the  four  cartridges.  Then  she  closed  the  aperture, 
put  both  the  drawers  back,  closed  the  desk. 

When  she  returned  to  bed  she  fell  into  a  deep  sleep.  She  slept 
late  into  the  next  morning. 


CHAPTEK  XXVH 

A  TELEGRAM  came  every  day  for  a  week  to  Hallowell.  On  the 
third  day  arrived  for  Southward  a  brief  note  from  John  telling 
in  a  guarded  way  what  had  happened  immediately  after  the 
shooting.  Azile  had  shown  remarkable  presence  of  mind.  She 
telephoned  John's  I.  W.  W.  physician-friend.  She  happened  to 
get  him  and  he  came  immediately.  In  the  meantime,  with  unex 
pected  coolness  and  common  sense,  she  rendered  first  aid.  She  also 
got  Ripley  within  a  few  minutes;  and  John  later.  Ripley  arrived 
five  minutes  after  the  doctor  and  John  came  before  the  doctor 
had  left.  In  the  doctor's  presence,  Azile  said  simply  that  Dwight 
had  had  a  quarrel  with  a  friend.  The  friend  shot  him.  To  John 
and  Ripley  she  told  the  truth.  An  examination  established  at  once 
that  Dwight  was  in  no  immediate  danger.  The  doctor  advised 
keeping  Dwight  in  the  apartment. 

Every  alternate  day  John  wrote  Southward  a  long  letter.  These 
letters  were  typewritten  and  unsigned.  The  envelopes  were  type 
written.  All  these  letters  ended  "  Burn  this " ;  and  Southward, 
when  she  had  read  them  three  times,  complied  with  the  request. 
Her  only  letter  in  reply  answered  a  question  as  to  Hester's  where 
abouts.  She  stated  briefly  that  she  had  heard  only  once  from 
Hester.  She  had  written  that,  feeling  the  need  of  change,  she  was 
starting  on  a  little  trip  to  Washington,  perhaps  to  Baltimore,  and 
possibly  to  Richmond.  The  trip  had  undoubtedly  lengthened.  At 
the  end  of  a  week,  John's  letter  contained  a  hand-written  note. 
It  was  in  a  scrawled  pencil — from  Dwight.  Without  reading  it, 
Southward  put  it  in  an  envelope,  addressed  it  to  Dwight;  mailed 
it  immediately.  These  pencilled  notes  continued  to  come  for  an 
interval;  always  they  went  back  unread. 

One  afternoon  Southward  returned  from  a  long  walk,  solitary 
except  for  the  dogs,  as  all  her  walks  were  nowadays.  The  sound 
of  voices  came  from  her  grandmother's  room  as  she  opened  the 
door.  When  she  entered,  Azile  Morrow,  very  trim  in  a  cheviot 
suit,  arose  to  meet  her. 

"  How  do  you  do  1 "  Azile  said.  "  I  told  your  grandmother  that 
I'd  be  the  last  person  on  earth  you'd  expect  to  see."  She  added 
with  a  swift  brightness,  "  But  mother  wanted  me  to  come  down  to 
the  Cape  to  dig  up  some  old  furniture  for  her.  I've  been  attending 

404 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  405 

to  that.  But  I  couldn't  go  away  without  seeing  you.  And  then 
there  are  a  lot  of  things  I  want  tc  ask  you.  I'm  so  glad  that  I 
found  you  at  home." 

"  I  see,"  Southward  showed  a  smooth  hard  composure.  "  I'm 
glad  you  came  here  immediately.  You  must  stay  with  us  as  long 
as  you  remain  in  Shayneford." 

"  Thank  you,"  Azile  answered.  "  I  will  take  advantage  of  your 
hospitality  to-night.  There  are  some  things  I  must  ask  you  at 
once,"  she  went  on  insistently,  "  or  as  soon  as  we  have  the  oppor 
tunity.  I'm  afraid  I'll  forget." 

"  After  dinner  perhaps,"  Southward  suggested  civilly.  She 
turned  to  her  grandmother.  "  I  think  we'd  better  put  Mrs.  Morrow 
in  the  southeast  chamber." 

"  Yes,"  Mrs.  Drake  agreed,  "  that's  what  Charlotte  and  I  de 
cided.  She's  up  there  fixing  it  up  and  your  grandfather's  building 
afire.  Mis'  Morrow  and  Charlotte  and  I  have  been  having  a 
beautiful  talk.  Charlotte  told  her  all  about  the  operation.  She's 
been  telling  me  all  about  her  mother's  shop.  Ain't  she  a  smart 
woman?  How  I  wish  my  sister  Sabry  could  have  heard  about 
that.  Sabry  was  a  terrible  capable  critter.  She  always  said  she'd 
admire  to  have  a  store  where  she  could  sell  them  old  antiques. 
I  don't  like  old  things  myself.  I  like  stylish  new  furniture.  I've 
been  asking  Mis'  Morrow  about  everybody — Miss  Hale  and  Mr. 
Smith  and  Mr.  Cameron,  and  Mr.  Fearing,  and  especially  Mr. 
O'Reilly.  He  was  my  favourite  of  all  the  gentlemen  who  came 
down  here  last  summer.  I  liked  Mr.  Cameron  too.  An  awful 
flirt,  I  should  say  though.  Land,  I've  seen  a  lot  of  men  like  that  in 
my  young  days.  Always  shining  up  to  one  or  two  or  three  girls 
at  once.  I  guess  I'd  let  everything  he  said  come  in  one  ear  and 
go  out  the  other.  Handsome  as  a  picture  though." 

Southward  listened  with  a  chill  deference  to  her  grandmother's 
opinions.  Then  she  disappeared  with  a  formal,  "  Excuse  me," 
returning  in  a  few  moments  with  "  Mrs.  Morrow,  your  room  ia 
all  ready  now.  Let  me  take  you  to  it." 

Mrs.  Morrow  silently  followed  Southward  through  the  dining- 
room  into  the  hall  of  the  big  main  house  and  to  the  bedroom  on  the 
first  floor  which  was  closest  to  the  ell. 

It  was  a  big  square  room,  nobly  proportioned  as  were  all 
the  rooms  in  Long  Lanes.  The  woodwork  was  yellow  with  age, 
but  beautifully  carved;  the  paper  not  colonial  but  early  Victorian 
of  a  simple  pattern.  The  big  canopied  bed,  the  tall  secretary,  the 
table  and  chairs  were  all,  though  many  of  them  in  need  of 
upholstery,  of  the  best  colonial  period. 


406  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

As  they  came  in,  Mr.  Drake  straightened  up  to  his  abbreviated 
full  stature  from  the  fireplace  where  high  flames  roared  upwards 
in  curling  oak-leaves  of  light.  Charlotte  turned  from  her  work 
at  the  bed  to  say: 

"  Now  I've  put  fresh  sheets  and  fresh  comfortables  on  the  bed, 
Mis'  Morrow,  and  I  don't  see  how  there  can  be  the  least  possible 
dampness.  But  I'm  going  to  keep  the  clothes  turned  back  for  an 
hour  or  so  jest  to  make  sure.  Then  I'm  going  to  slip  some  hot- 
water  bottles  in  before  you  come  to  bed.  And  with  the  fire  going, 
I'm  sure  you'll  be  as  warm  and  dry  as  in  New  York." 

"  We've  never  had  any  trouble  with  dampness  in  this  room," 
Mr.  Drake  explained.  "  And  don't  be  frightened  because  you  seem 
so  far  away.  Southward's  room  is  right  alongside  of  you.  And 
I'm  within  easy  call." 

"  You're  both  very  kind,"  Azile  said  graciously.  "  And  I'm 
sure  I  shall  be  neither  cold,  damp,  nor  frightened.  What  a 
beautiful  fireplace!  Mother  and  I  have  never  forgotten  that  per 
sonally-conducted  tour  you  gave  us  through  this  house.  We  still 
remember  it  as  one  of  the  loveliest  old  New  England  places  that 
we  have  ever  seen." 

"  We'll  leave  Mrs.  Morrow  for  a  little  while  now,"  Southward 
suggested.  "  You'll  find  plenty  of  hot  water  on  the  stand  here," 
she  added,  examining  the  supplies  that  Charlotte  had  brought, 
"  and  plenty  of  towels,  I  think.  Take  your  time ;  we  won't  have 
dinner  until  half  an  hour  at  least." 

She  herded  her  grandfather  and  Charlotte  through  the  door  and 
followed  in  their  wake. 

She  did  not,  as  was  her  wont  ordinarily,  when  company  came 
to  Long  Lanes,  supervise  to  the  minutest  detail  the  appointments 
of  the  table  and  the  serving  of  the  dinner.  When  half  an  hour 
later,  in  answer  to  the  bell,  Mrs.  Morrow — still  in  the  cheviot 
suit  which  she  had  worn  in  the  train,  but  visibly  combed,  washed, 
and  powdered — appeared  in  the  dining-room,  she  sat  down  to  a 
meal  which  was,  except  for  the  food,  the  replica  of  every  one  that 
Southward  had  eaten  in  the  last  month.  The  coloured  cloth  and 
napkins,  blue  woven  with  red,  the  bone-handled  knives  and  forks, 
the  anemic,  ugly  modern  china,  the  bad  overfaceted  cut  glass — 
it  was  all  in  Mrs.  Drake's  taste.  Only  in  the  food,  one  of  Char 
lotte's  deliciously-cooked  boiled  dinners,  was  there  any  sense  of 
cheer.  They  talked  about  many  things,  Hester  in  particular. 
The  meal  was  a  brief  one,  although  rather  longer  than  usual,  and 
after  it  was  over  Azile  joined  Southward  in  assisting  Charlotte 
with  the  dishes.  After  dinner,  to  Mrs.  Drake's  second  batch  of 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  407 

questions,  Azile  answered  that,  as  far  as  she  knew,  Hester  kad 
come  back  from  her  trip  to  Washington  and  was  still  living  in 
the  little  apartment.  Edith  Hale  was  taking  care  of  her  dying 
aunt,  somewhere  in  the  wilds  of  New  Jersey.  Ripley  Fearing  and 
John  Smith  were  busy  as  usual  in  New  York.  Dwight  Cameron 
had  left  the  city  for  a  little  vacation  trip  to  his  house  in  New 
Hampshire.  All  this  talk  ran  smoothly  and  Southward  con 
tributed  her  full  complement. 

Presently  Southward  arose.  "  If  you  don't  mind,  Mrs.  Morrow," 
she  suggested,  "  we'll  go  into  your  room  now.  I  can  give  you  all 
that  information  so  much  better  where  we  can  have  a  desk  or  table 
and  you  can  make  notes." 

In  the  southwest  chamber,  she  placed  more  logs  on  the  fire, 
drew  two  winged  chairs  to  the  hearth,  motioned  Azile  to  one  of 
them,  herself  took  the  other. 

"  I  hoped  to  get  here  much  sooner  than  this,"  Azile  began 
without  preliminaries.  "  But  I  had  to  stay  in  New  York.  We  did 
not  dare  hire  a  nurse  for  Dwight;  so  we  took  turns  caring 
for  him,  Ripley,  John,  and  myself.  He's  all  right  now.  There 
was  never  any  real  danger,  only  a  shoulder-wound.  He  rallied 
wonderfully.  But  of  course  to  a  bunch  of  amateurs  like  us,  it  all 
looked  awfully  serious  for  a  while.  We  moved  him  into  his  own 
rooms  after  a  week.  Luckily  Hester  did  not  come  home  during 
that  time,  although  we  had  an  explanation  all  framed  for  her 
about  an  accidental  shooting.  As  it  is,  of  course,  she  knows 
nothing  about  the  real  situation.  At  the  end  of  two  weeks  Dwight 
went  to  his  father.  He  writes  that  he's  all  right  now,  fit  as  a 
fiddle,  better  than  he's  ever  been."  Azile  stopped  and  waited. 

"  It's  very  good  of  you  to  tell  me  all  this,"  Southward  said 
still  with  her  studied  civility.  "  I  confess  that  I  was  relieved  to 
get  the  first  reassuring  news.  I  was  perfectly  well  aware  how 
serious  the  situation  was,  I  mean  in  regard  to  myself,  if  things 
had  turned  out  badly.  But  now  that  my  own  safety  is  assured,  I 
don't  mind  telling  you  that  I  am  quite  indifferent  to  the  effect 
on  anybody  else  and  particularly  Mr.  Cameron." 

"  Yes,  I  can  understand  that,"  Azile  admitted.  She  leaned 
forward;  appeared  to  examine  shoe  buckles  winking  brilliantly  in 
the  firelight.  "  Of  course  as  the  situation  concerns  you  and  him, 
it  is  not  my  business.  As  it  concerns  me,  it  is.  And  so  I'm 
going  to  take  the  liberty  of  meddling  further  in  this  matter.  I 
shouldn't  call  it  meddling  exactly,  although  you  might.  How 
ever  I  hope  you'll  hear  me  out,  for  I'd  like  very  much  to  say  what 
I  have  to  say." 


408  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"I'm  very  interested,"  Southward  announced  with  a  courtesy, 
still  distant  and  even  more  polished.  "Pray  go  on.  You  may 
believe  if  you  say  anything  that  I  find  offensive,  I  shall  not 
hesitate  to  let  you  know." 

"Please  do  that,"  Azile  said  with  gravity.     "I  prefer  it." 

Southward's  only  reply  was  to  assume  a  listening  attitude. 

Azile  unclasped  her  hands,  leaned  back.  She  fitted  one  elbow 
into  the  arm-crotch  of  her  chair,  dropped  her  chin  to  her  palm. 

"  Miss  Drake,  Dwight  Cameron  is  not  in  love  with  me.  He 
never  has  been  in  love  with  me.  I  tried  my  best  to  infatuate 
him  because — oh,  for  several  reasons.  I  won't  go  into  that  now, 

though.  But  that  scene What  you  saw  that  morning  in  your 

apartment  was  not  so  much  the  result  of  his  weakness  as  of  my 
skill.  I  planned  it  all.  I  took  him  by  surprise.  I  made  him  do 
it.  Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  Considering  everything,"  Southward  answered  briefly,  "  no." 

"  Well,  you  will  some  time,"  Azile  flashed  at  her.  "  I'm  afraid 
I'll  have  to  go  into  it  pretty  deeply  to  make  you  understand  and 
I  must  make  you  understand  before  I  leave  this  house.  You  and 
I,  Miss  Drake,  are  both  flirts.  You  know  that,  don't  you?  You 
recognise  it  to  be  true  of  me.  Do  you  admit  that  it's  true  of 
yourself  ? " 

"  Yes,"  Southward  answered  briefly  again. 

"  That  will  help  somewhat  in  clearing  up  the  situation.  I've 
been  a  desperate  flirt  all  my  life.  I  make  no  bones  of  it.  I  can't 
help  it.  I  was  born  that  way.  I  have  just  as  much  the  instinct 
for  personal  conquest  as  a  Napoleon  for  dynastic  conquest.  And 
I've  made  both  an  art  and  a  science  of  flirtation.  Coquetry  and 
seduction — that's  where  I  live.  I've  flirted  ever  since  I  was 
twelve.  Marriage  made  no  change  in  my  tendencies  and  inclina 
tions,  although  I  thought  it  was  going  to.  In  fact,  I  flirted 
harder  the  first  two  years  of  my  marriage  than  I've  ever  flirted 
before  or  since.  The  truth  of  the  matter  is,  it's  a  stimulant  to 
me.  Women  who  lire  all  over  the  world  the  way  I  have,  amidst 
crowds  of  people,  making  new  acquaintances  all  the  time  and 
great  numbers  of  them,  always  resort  to  stimulants  of  some  kind, 
smoking  or  drinking  or  drugs.  I  smoke  of  course,  but  it's  not 
a  necessity  with  me.  None  of  those  other  things  interest  me.  My 
stimulant  is  men."  She  paused.  Then  she  added,  "You  under 
stand  what  I  mean — I'm  not  suggesting  that  I'm  a  sexual  pirate." 

Southward  sat  immobile  with  that  admirable  stillness  into  which 
at  any  moment  of  stress  she  could  crystallise  her  restlessness. 
But  that  dark  predatory  look  which  always  indicated  mental 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  409 

unrest  gloomed  on  her  brow,  seemed  to  burst  through  her  smooth 
skin  and  lie  there,  a  visible  dark  stain. 

"  I  hope  you  understand,"  she  said  coolly,  "  that  though  I  admit 
I'm  a  flirt,  I  don't  accuse  myself  of  being  the  kind  of  flirt  you're 
describing  now." 

"  Oh,  I  understand  the  difference  between  us,"  Azile  declared 
lightly.  "  But  I  think  it's  only  a  difference  of  kind — not  of 
degree.  Sometimes  I  think  I'm  the  worst  of  the  two  and  some 
times  I  think  you  are.  However  I'm  coming  to  your  case  later 
on.  I'll  continue  with  mine.  I  suppose  I  should  have  gone  on 
the  stage.  I  really  have  a  marked  ability  in  that  direction.  But 
I'm  one  of  the  very  few  women  that  you'll  meet  in  a  lifetime 
who  have  never  been  stage-struck.  If  I  had  become  an  actress 
though,  it  would  have  taken  care  of  that  histrionic  impulse  in  me. 
For  my  flirting  has  become  now  only  a  play-acting  impulse.  I'll 
tell  you  my  secret.  And  it's  a  curious  thing  that  I  do  tell  it. 
'For  I  have  never  before  told  it  to  any  other  woman.  And  I 
suppose  at  this  moment,  I  like  you  less  well  than  any  woman  I 
know." 

Southward's  expression  did  not  change.  "  I  confess  to  a  rather 
similar  feeling  as  far  as  you  are  concerned." 

Azile  flushed;  her  composed  brightness  snapped  ^or  an  instant. 
"  Voila!  that  gives  me  complete  liberty.  It's  reached  the  point 
with  me  now  that  I'm  so  bored  with  everything  that  I  can  only 
interest  myself  in  the  new  personality  which  I  construct  for  the 
man  with  whom  I  happen  to  be  flirting.  In  the  beginning,  I  see 
what  he  wants  me  to  be  and  make  myself  it.  Rather  fascinating 
too — changing  into  half  a  dozen  women  in  the  course  of  a 
year.  As  far  as  Dwight  is  concerned,  this  is  what  happened. 
I  had  known  him  for  about  a  year  when  you  met  him.  Of 
course  he's  an  outrageous  flirt,  and  he  flirted  with  me.  It  was  all 
perfectly  fair.  He  knew  that  I  was  flirting  and  I  knew  that  he 
was.  In  his  case  however,  I  decided  to  be  a  literary  mentor — it 
all  grew  out  of  one  talk  in  which,  according  to  his  engaging 
custom,  he  took  me  into  his  confidence  about  the  novel  he  was 
then  writing — asked  me  to  read  what  he  had  done — begged  for 
criticism.  I  had  never  been  a  literary  inspiration.  It  interested 
me.  I  became  one.  I  worked  hard  at  the  job  of  mentor.  Curi 
ously  enough  that  fascinated  me  with  him  more  than  the  flirting 
did  and  sometime  in  the  midst  of  it  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I'd 
subjugate  him  entirely.  That  was  just  before  he  came  to 
Shayneford." 

Azile  stopped  for  a  moment  and  ran  her  hand  through  her  hair. 


410  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

The  movement  rumpled  its  rippled  green-gold  masses.  And  ap 
parently  subconsciously  impelled,  she  patted  them  into  place  again. 

"  When  I  came  here  and  found  him  in  a  fair  way  to  falling  in 
love  with  you,  I  made  up  my  mind  that  I  must  break  that  up.  I 
had  had  other  rivals  in  the  course  of  my  life  naturally,  and  al 
though  some  of  them  were  much  more  beautiful  or  attractive  than 
I,  none  were  so  resourceful  and  so  audacious.  And  I  have  met  some 
wonderful  sirens  on  the  continent.  Because  of  one  quality  I  often 
won  unfairly — my  superb  physical  strength — my  greater  powers 
of  physical  endurance — I  mean  when  it  came  to  such  things  as 
walking  and  mountain-climbing  and  the  like.  Now  you  were  an 
added  impetus.  Because  you  were  a  beauty,  much  more  beautiful 
than  I,  with  all  my  physical  strength  and  perhaps  more — and 
equally  conscienceless.  Oh,  I  recognised  in  you  a  foeman  worthy 
of  my  steel.  I  suppose  I  am  admitting  that  I  am  a  wicked  woman 
when  I  say  that  my  resolution  to  conquer  Dwight  was  much 
strengthened  by  my  perception  that  Dwight  was  half  in  love  with 
you  and  you  with  him." 

Southward  jarred  out  of  her  immobility.  "  We  won't  discuss 
that  aspect  of  the  situation,"  she  said  in  a  voice  dangerously 
quiet. 

"As  you  will."  Azile  arose  and  reached  for  her  cigarette-case. 
Returning  to  the  fire,  she  offered  Southward  a  cigarette.  South 
ward  refused  it  with  a  quick  head-shake. 

"  It  piqued  me  awfully  that  I  could  not  beat  your  game,"  Azile 
went  on,  perfectly  in  command  of  herself  and  smiling  through 
the  puffs  of  smoke  that  came  spiralling  from  her  nostrils.  "  Here 
you  were,  a  little  inexperienced  country-girl.  You'd  had  a  limited 
realm  as  a  belle  in  this  little  God-forsaken  New  England  hole. 
Your  conquests  had  been  the  usual  run  of  country  riff-raff  that 
one  finds  in  a  place  like  this.  I  thought  I  was  going  to  beat  you 
so  easily  that  the  conquest  would  be  a  shameful  one.  And  yet, 
using  every  weapon  in  my  armory  against  you,  I  could  not 
succeed." 

She  puffed  in  silence  a  moment.  Southward  might  have  been 
a  bronze  statue  for  any  movement  she  made. 

"  There's  something,"  Azile  went  on  analytically,  "  which  I 
recognised  from  the  beginning  that  you  have  and  I  haven't.  I 
can  beat  you  easily  enough  when  it  comes  to  the  regular  woman- 
stuff — coquetry,  cajolery,  seduction — call  it  what  you  wish.  But 
you  have  something  that  I  couldn't  get — not  in  a  thousand  years. 
I  call  it  power;  but  really  '  power '  doesn't  describe  it.  It's  more 
than  that.  There's  something  terrifying  about  it.  It's  the  quality 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  411 

in  you  that  with  all  your  terrible,  irritating  natural  restlessness, 
permits  you  to  sit  silent  and  moveless,  like  some  awful  over 
powering,  primitive  evil  god — as  you  sit  this  moment  for  instance. 
That's  wonderful.  That's  extraordinary.  I'd  love  it  in  you  if 
you  were  a  man.  But  I  hate  it  in  you  as  a  woman.  Nevertheless 
I  recognise  it  as  strength.  I  envy  you  it.  .  But  as  I  said  before, 
there's  something  terrible  about  it.  It's  the  thing  that  drove  you 
to  do  what  you  did  to  Dwight.  I  couldn't  have  done  that.  God! 
Shall  I  ever  get  that  picture  out  of  my  mind  ? "  Her  voice  broke, 
sank  an  octave,  whispered.  "  When  Dwight  tottered  back  onto 

the  couch,  dragging  me  with  him His  blood  was  on  my  arm 

when  I  pulled  myself  away." 

She  stopped  short  and  stared,  through  the  cloud  of  smoke  that 
hung  between  them,  at  Southward.  Southward  did  not  move;  the 
smooth  blackness  of  her  expression  did  not  quiver. 

"  Yes,  you're  made  of  iron  and  stone,"  Azile  said  as  though  in 
comment  to  herself.  "  Now  I'm  going  to  give  you  a  little  peep 
behind  the  scenes.  I'm  going  to  let  you  see  all  the  stage-machinery 
— make-up — everything.  When  you  came  to  New  York,  I  realised 
that  the  positions  would  be  reversed  to  a  considerable  degree.  In 
Shayneford  I  was  in  your  territory.  In  New  York  you  would  be 
in  my  bailiwick.  In  Shayneford,  I  was  at  a  disadvantage.  That 
night  you  brought  me  up  to  your  garret,  I  saw  one  of  Dwight's 
cigarette-stubs — his  initials  were  on  it — in  the  ash-tray.  I  knew 
that  he  was  seeing  you  there  constantly.  And  of  course  I  realised, 
as  well  as  anybody  could,  what  a  romantic  setting  that  garret 
was  with  its  awful,  amateur,  jumbled  picturesqueness.  And 
you,  so  young,  beautiful,  and  original  in  this  house  of  the  dead. 
I  made  up  my  mind  I'd  show  you  a  thing  or  two  in  New  York. 
I  thought  I  could  intimidate  you — actually  frighten  you  off.  That 
first  visit  you  paid  me  and  all  our  first  meetings  were  stage- 
managed  with  that  end  in  view.  Do  you  remember  for  instance, 
how  I  forgot  to  dismiss  the  taxi  and  kept  it  waiting  at  my  door 
for  three  hours  ?  I  did  that  deliberately.  Do  you  remember  when 
you  sat  with  me  while  I  dressed,  the  letters  and  telegrams  and 
telephone-calls,  and  flowers  that  came?  I  planned  all  that.  Do 
you  remember  the  clothes  I  wore  during  that  week-end  visit,  the 
succession  of  negligees  and  evening  gowns?  I  planned  to  have  a 
whole  new,  fresh  outfit  when  you  arrived.  Do  you  remember  the 
expeditions  I  took  you  on — the  shopping-trip  in  which  I  bought 
scores  of  useless  and  expensive  things — the  theatre  to  which  I 
was  an  act  late — the  luncheon  over  which  I  made  such  a  fuss 
with  the  head  waiter — the  perpetual  rout  of  people  at  my  place — 


412  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

the  dinner  at  which  you  and  Hester  were  the  only  people  present 
who  were  not  celebrities?  All  that  was  planned  with  the  idea  of 
dazzling  and  terrifying  you.  Most  of  the  things  I  bought  on 
those  shopping  expeditions  were  returned.  Some  of  the  people 
who  came  to  my  house  were  cultivated  for  the  time  being  just 
to  make  me  seem  a  centre  of  attraction.  Many  of  the  celebrities 
that  came  to  that  dinner  I  scarcely  knew.  I  got  one  to  come 
with  the  promise  of  another,  a  third  with  the  promise  of  the  other 
two — and  so  on.  Yes,  it  was  all  done  to  dazzle  and  terrify  you. 
But  you  didn't  dazzle  or  terrify  one  atom.  Hester  did — but  not 
you." 

Azile  threw  her  cigarette-end  into  the  fire,  lighted  another. 

"  It  was  a  good  piece  of  work,"  Southward  commented.  "  I 
never  suspected  it  at  all." 

"  Because  you  were  so  sure  of  yourself,"  Azile  explained.  "  I 
couldn't  shake  that  terrible  self-assurance,  that  fearful  horrible 
something  in  you  that,  for  want  of  a  better  name,  I  call — power. 
I  suppose  the  reason  I  can  tell  you  this  now  is  because  I  don't 
care  any  more.  My  feeling  for  Dwight  vanished  when  I  saw 
your  bullet  strike  him  down.  Of  course  it  couldn't  have  been  a 
real  feeling.  I  have  never  had  any  real  feeling  for  anybody 
except  my  mother  and  perhaps  the  baby  I  lost.  I  did  want  awfully 
though  to  conquer  Dwight  and  to  break  you.  But  after  all,  if 
I'm  not  a  woman  in  any  womanly  sense,  I  am  an  artist.  I  recog 
nise  true  art  when  I  see  it — a  masterpiece — genuine  feeling. 
And  of  course  I  know,  as  I  think  in  your  heart  you  know — 
although  you  won't  admit  it — that  you're  desperately  in  lore  with 
Dwight  and  he  with  you." 

That  predatory  darkness  in  Southward's  face  became  a  dan 
gerous  blackness. 

"  You  look  as  though  you  could  murder  me  now,"  Azile  com 
mented.  "Eh  bien!  It  makes  it  easier  for  me  to  go  on.  Now 
I'm  going  to  tell  you  what  happened  after  you  left  New  York. 
I  had  been  having,  all  during  your  stay  there,  a  harder  and  harder 
time  with  Dwight.  When  he  spent  a  whole  evening  or  better  a 
whole  day  at  my  place  working,  he  was  of  course  more  or  less 
under  my  influence.  But  one  evening  with  you — and  my  instinct 
always  told  me  when  he  had  been  with  you — and  he  became  a 
different  person,  absent,  preoccupied,  always  on  the  verge  of 
irritation.  I  realised  perfectly  how  things  were  drifting,  but  I 
felt  powerless.  Your  trip  to  Shayneford  looked  to  me  as  though 
the  gods  were  playing  my  game.  But  one  day,  while  I  was  out, 
Dwight  came  to  our  place  and  took  all  his  manuscripts  away.  I 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  413 

called  him  up  immediately,  but  I  could  get  nothing  out  of  him 
beyond  a  confused  notion  that  he  wanted  to  be  absolutely  alone 
to  thrash  out  a  new  idea  he  had  in  regard  to  the  novel.  He 
didn't  want  to  talk  it  over  with  anybody.  He  told  me,  when  I 
questioned  him,  that  he  was  not  working  in  his  own  rooms,  but 
he  would  not  tell  me  where.  However  I  met  John  somewhere 
and  he  told  me  that  Hester  had  gone  away.  I  leaped  to  the 
conclusion  that  she  had  given  Dwight  permission  to  write  in  your 
apartment  while  she  was  gone.  I  decided  then  on  a  big  and  final 
coup.  I  went  there  one  morning.  I  did  not  ring  the  bell,  but 
waited  until  somebody  was  going  in  and  followed  him  upstairs 
when  he  opened  the  door.  Dwight  looked  perfectly  thunderstruck 
at  my  appearance  and  I  thought  not  especially  pleased.  He'd  been 
writing  early  and  late  and  he  seemed  tired.  Well,  the  rest  of  it 
is  one  of  those  scenes  that  one  never  describes.  I  don't  know 
whether  you  can  imagine  it  or  not,  for  although  you're  as  much 
of  a  flirt  as  I— and  I  maintain  quite  as  unscrupulous — you  are 
a  different  type.  I  provoke  infatuation.  You  compel  it.  Anyway 
I'll  admit  on  that  occasion  I  broke  every  rule  of  what  we  call — 
maidenly — conduct.  A  man  has  no  chance  against  a  woman  in 
those  circumstances.  Not  if  he's  flesh  and  blood,  which  Dwight 
assuredly  is.  I'm  going  pretty  far  in  my  effort  to  play  this  game 
straight  when  I  tell  you  that  Dwight  didn't  take  me  into  his  arms. 
I  threw  myself  there." 

She  paused  and  surveyed  Southward  with  a  frank  openness.' 
Southward  spoke  first. 

"  I  shall  have  to  confess,"  she  said  politely,  "  that  although 
most  entertaining  as  character-study,  this  utterly  fails  to  interest 
me  from  any  personal  point  of  view." 

Azile  smiled  cynically,  threw  her  cigarette  into  the  fire.  "  All's 
well  that  ends  well,"  she  pronounced.  "  And  when  I  again  assure 
you  that  Dwight  is  perfectly  well  now,  my  duty — damn  the  word — 
I  haven't  had  any  active  connection  with  it  for  years — ends."  She 
arose,  stretched,  sat  down.  "  I'm  going  abroad,"  she  announced 
affably. 

For  a  courteous  fifteen  minutes  or  more,  Southward  took  the 
reins  of  conversation  into  her  own  hands.  She  talked  briefly  on 
general  subjects  and  at  great  length  about  any  people  in  Shayne- 
ford  whom  Azile  remembered.  At  Azile's  request  she  described 
Charlotte's  operation.  Then  she  bade  her  guest  a  ceremonious 
good  night. 

At  breakfast  the  next  morning,  Mrs.  Morrow  announced  to  the 
family,  as  she  had  announced  to  Southward  the  night  before, 


414  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

that  she  must  take  an  early  train.  Mr.  Drake  drove  her  to  the 
station.  As  soon  as  she  left  the  house,  Southward  disappeared 
with  the  dogs  in  the  direction  of  Long  Pond.  Five  hours  later 
she  returned,  cold,  hungry,  exhausted,  wet  to  the  knees  as  though 
she  had  walked  through  damp  woods. 

It  was  a  long  time  before  Long  Lanes  again  saw  a  visitor  from 
New  York. 


CHAPTEK  XXVIII 

NOTWITHSTANDING  her  explicit  statements  to  the  janitor,  Hester 
did  not  leave  her  apartments,  on  the  day  of  her  long  talk  with 
John,  until  towards  evening.  After  he  had  gone,  she  methodically 
brushed  and  combed  her  hair;  did  it  apparently  by  accident  in 
her  old  and  unbecoming  way.  Then  she  carefully  prepared  herself 
a  luncheon.  But  after  she  had  spread  it  on  the  table,  she  seemed 
suddenly  to  forget  about  it.  She  seated  herself  in  a  chair  by  the 
window,  fixed  her  eyes  on  the  strip  of  sky  above  the  red-tiled 
roof 

About  dusk,  she  put  on  her  coat  and  hat.  When,  about  twenty 
minutes  later,  she  pressed  Josie  Caldwell's  bell,  using  the  signal- 
ring  which  that  lady  demanded  of  her,  the  door  snapped  ajar 
immediately. 

Upstairs,  the  door  was  open,  although  Josie  was  not  in  sight. 

"  Glad  to  see  you,"  called  Josie's  voice.  "  Come  right  on  in.  At 
the  same  old  business  of  making  up.  How  are  you  ?  " 

"  I  never  did  feel  better,"  Hester  declared.  "  New  York  cer 
tainly  agrees  with  me.  How  are  you,  Josie  ? " 

"  Oh,  fair  to  middling.  Sit  down — if  you're  not  tired  of  watch 
ing  this  performance." 

Hester  took  the  little  chair  beside  the  dresser.  She  did  not 
speak.  Josie  was  now  busying  herself  with  her  eyes,  a  detail  of 
her  swift,  easy  accustomed  progress  that  alone  seemed  to  call  for 
concentrated  quiet.  She  too  did  not  speak  for  an  interval.  The 
silence  grew  heavy.  As  though  struck  by  it  suddenly,  Josie 
stopped,  black  pencil  in  hand,  met  Hester's  eyes  in  the  mirror. 

"  What  is  it,  Hester  ? "  she  demanded. 

"  Nothing,"  Hester  answered  easily.  "  I'm  quiet  because  it 
always  interests  me  so  to  watch  you." 

She  continued  to  keep  silence  and  she  continued  to  watch.  By 
now,  she  had  seen  this  process  many  times  but,  to-day,  it  was  as 
though  her  interest  were  new  and  avid.  Once  she  leaned  over 
and,  one  by  one,  lifted  the  little  bottles  and  boxes;  studied  their 
labels. 

"  How  did  you  learn  to  do  it,  Josie  ? "  she  asked. 

"  Oh,  first,  I  just  experimented,  the  way  everybody  does.  Then 

415 


416 

I  picked  up  points  from  the  other  girls.  Once  I  had  a  friend 
who  was  on  the  stage  and  I  used  to  watch  her.  I'm  pretty  clever 
at  it  now.  I  could  make  you  up  swell.  Of  course  I  wouldn't  use 
the  same  things  for  you  as  for  myself.  You  being  blond,  I'd 
make  you  as  pink  and  white  as  possible.  Say,  how'd  you  like  me 
to  try  it  ?  " 

"  I'd  love  it,"  Hester  answered.    "  Now?  " 

"  Sure.    Sit  right  down." 

Josie  arose  and  Hester  took  her  place. 

First  Josie  brushed  back  Hester's  hair;  wadded  the  locks  that 
ordinarily  hung  loose  about  her  forehead  into  a  big  weft  on  the  top 
of  her  head.  Then  she  covered  her  face  with  a  toilet  cream, 
massaged  it;  repeated  one  by  one  all  the  processes  which  had  so 
entertained  Hester.  Hester  did  not  once  remove  her  eyes  from 
the  mirror.  She  watched,  not  breathlessly  but  with  something 
more  tense  than  breathlessness,  the  growth  of  that  new  Hestei 
in  the  glass.  When  Josie  finished,  there  stared  back  at  her  a 
doll-like  replica  of  her  own  face,  very  pink  in  the  cheeks  but 
very  white  elsewhere,  except  where  eyes,  normally  grey-blue,  now 
a  mysterious  dark  blue,  sparkled  from  caverns  of  shadow.  Nos 
trils  had  turned  a  shell-pink,  ear-lobes  a  deep  rose,  lips  a  moist 
crimson,  and  all  showed  the  smoothness  of  a  marvellously  fine 
porcelain  that  has  been  baked  and  painted  and  fired.  Josie  took 
down  Hester's  hair.  She  did  not  rebraid  it  but  she  recoiled  it 
in  a  more  becoming  fashion.  She  removed  the  hairpin  from  the 
skein  of  straying  wefts;  combed  these  out  fluffily;  drew  them  in 
waves  on  Hester's  forehead;  caught  them  tautly  there  with  in 
visible  hairpins. 

"  My  word,  Hester,  you  look  a  swell ! "  she  said,  standing  off 
and  surveying  her  own  work.  "  All  you  need  is  a  pair  of  earrings, 
long  ones — to  be  a  perfect " 

"  Josie,"  Hester  met  Josie's  admiring  and  amused  eyes  in  the 
glass.  "  How  do  you  address  them  ?  " 

"  Oh,"  Josie  answered  easily,  "  '  Hello,  Kid,'  or  <  Hello,  Blondie,' 
or  'Anything  doing  to-night,  Kid?" 

"And  do  they  always  answer?" 

"  Not  on  your  tintype !  Most  of  them  pay  no  attention  what 
ever.  Some  you  have  to  follow  up  and  others  just  come  right 
along  like  lambs." 

"  You  don't  bring  them  here  ? "  Hester  asked. 

"  I  don't.  Violet  does.  I  don't  want  to  take  chances  with  the 
tenement-house  law." 

Hester's  head  dropped.     Involuntarily  her  hands  went  up  to 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  417 

her  eyes.  They  stopped  midway  in  air  as  though  she  were  afraid 
of  smudging  the  doll-face  that  looked  at  her  from  the  glass. 

"  Oh,  Josie,  Josie !  "  she  ^claimed.  "  How  did  it  all  happen  ? 
You  know  that  I  believe  I  haven't  any  business  to  ask  you  that 
question.  And  I  wouldn't  ask  you  if  you  hadn't  said  that  you'd 
tell  me  sometime.  But  I  love  you  and  I'm  sorry.  Tell  me  now." 

"  Sure  I'll  tell  you.  I  don't  mind  telling  you,  Hester.  It's  a 
long  time  now;  and  I've  often  thought  I'd  like  you  to  understand 
how  it  happened.  I  know  there  used  to  be  a  whole  mess  of  talk 
floating  around  about  me  when  I  lived  in  Shayneford.  But  that 
wasn't  true.  I  was  a  good  girl  then.  I  don't  mean  to  say  that 
I  didn't  do  a  lot  of  things  that  girls  shouldn't,  but  nobody  had 
any  license  to  knock  me  in  those  days.  And  when  I  first  came 
to  New  York  I  was  a  good  girl.  I  didn't  come  here  with  a  man 
as  everybody  said  in  Shayneford.  I  came  alone  and  I  came 
because  I  couldn't  stand  the  rotten  dulness  of  that  little  town.  I 
had  too  much  pep  in  me  to  stay.  That  was  my  trouble — pep. 
I  got  a  job  in  a  department-store  first." 

Josie  half  rose,  made  as  though  to  throw  off  her  kimono;  appar 
ently  thought  better  of  it.  She  sat  down  again  and  gave  herself 
completely  to  her  narrative. 

"  I  met  a  man — no  matter  how.  He  was  in  a  broker's  office 
downtown.  He  was  the  most  elegant  man  I  had  ever  known ; 
handsome,  good  clothes,  and  a  spender;  and  knew  this  town  from 
A  to  Z.  I  was  crazy  about  him.  If  I  was  some  girls,  I'd  say 
it  was  a  case  of  seduction,  but  it  wasn't.  I  was  just  as  willing 
as  he  was — and  more.  And  what  happened  needn't  have  hap 
pened  at  all;  for  I  was  over  seven  and  knew  the  ropes.  But  I 
got  the  idea  that  he'd  marry  me  if  I  put  him  in  a  situation  where 
he'd  ought  to.  And  he  would  of.  So  I  laid  for  him.  But  just 
after  I  got  that  way,  he  came  down  with  typhoid.  He  was 
recovering  from  that  all  right  when  he  got  appendicitis.  And 
by  God,  he  died — in  three  days  he  died.  I'd  been  putting  off  doing 
anything  because  I  knew  he'd  marry  me  when  he  got  well.  When 
he  died — well,  for  a  week  or  two  I  don't  know  what  I  did.  And 
then  it  was  too  late  for  me  to  run  any  risks.  At  first  I  thought 
I'd  go  to  his  folks  and  put  up  a  holler.  They  had  money  and 
I  thought  it  was  up  to  them  to  take  care  of  me.  But  what  was 
the  use?  They  wouldn't  of  believed  me.  But  the  thing  that  kept 
me  from  that  was  thinking  of  him.  He  loved  his  mother  dearly — 
used  to  talk  a  lot  about  her  to  me.  And  I  didn't  want  to  make 
her  unhappy.  So  I  didn't  let  them  know  anything  about  it.  I 
just  stayed  on  here  in  New  York  and  put  it  through.  He'd  given 


418  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

me  some  jewelry  and  I  had  a  little  money.  I  hocked  the  ice. 
But  when  I  came  out  of  the  hospital,  there  was  damn  little  left. 
Then  there  was  the  kid  to  support.  I  thought  this  was  the  easiest 
way  out.  Maybe  there  was  some  other  way  but  I  didn't  know  it 
then ;  and  I  don't  know  it  now.  Anyway,  I  tried  it  and  I  took 
to  it  like  a  duck  to  water.  Of  course  I  ain't  in  this  business 
because  I  prefer  it.  Not  that  I'm  going  to  stand  for  anybody 
looking  down  on  me.  But  I've  put  by  and  I'm  not  always  going 
to  stay  with  it.  After  a  while,  I'm  going  out  West  to  open  a 
boarding-house.  Just  the  same,  believe  me,  I'd  rather  be  what 
I  am  than  back  in  that  department-store  or  a  biscuit-shooter  or 
a  chambermaid.  Say,"  Josie's  voice  dropped  to  a  note  frankly 
business-like,  "  if  you  ever  hear  in  your  travels  of  any  good 
opening  for  a  boarding-house  in  a  Western  city,  put  me  next,  will 
you?" 

"  Yes,"  Hester  promised  mechanically,  "  I  will.  Where  is  your 
child,  Josie?" 

"  I  board  him  with  a  farmer's  wife  over  on  Long  Island,"  Josie 
answered  briefly. 

"  Does  she  know  ? " 

"I  never  told  her  but  I  guess  she  suspects;  for  she  soaks  me 
a  little  now  and  then.  Not  so  much  as  she  might  though,  and 
that's  why  I  stay  with  her." 

Hester  pondered,  her  chin  in  her  hand,  her  blackened  eyelashes 
sweeping  her  pinkened  cheek.  "  Poor  Josie !  "  she  said. 

"  I  don't  want  anybody's  pity,"  Josie  snapped. 

Hester's  lashes  swept  upwards.  "  I'd  like  to  see  your  boy, 
Josie.  Will  you  take  me  there  sometime  ? " 

"  You  betchu." 

"  And,  Josie,  I'd  love  to  have  him  come  to  Shaynef ord  some 
time  to  stay  with  me.  In  the  summer.  When  I'm  settled  there 
again.  Would  you  like  that  ?  " 

"  Sure.  He's  a  nice  kiddie,  believe  me.  And  the  spit  of  his 
father,  which  would  make  things  easy  there.  Want  to  wash  that 
make-up  off  ? " 

"No.  If  you'll  lend  me  a  veil,  I  think  I'll  wear  it  home. 
There's  a  friend  coming  to  call  this  evening.  She's  pretty  straight- 
laced  and  I'm  just  going  to  let  her  walk  in  on  me  and  find  me 
like  this." 

Hester  put  on  her  hat.  Josie  fumbled  among  the  things  in 
the  top  drawer  of  the  chiffonier;  brought  out  a  thick  black  veil. 
She  watched  Hester  adjust  it  with  eyes  suddenly  become  as  hard 
as  pebbles  from  impassivity. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  419 

"  Good-bye,"  Hester  said,  "  I  must  be  going  now.  You've  been 
awfully  good  to  me,  Josie.  Oh,  I've  been  so  glad  to  see  you  again, 
and  I  understand  it  all  now.  It's  so  different  from  what  every 
body  thought.  I  never  shall  worry  about  you  again." 

"  You  speak  as  if  you  were  saying  good-bye  for  good,"  Josie 
charged  her. 

"  No,"  Hester  answered.  "  It  does  happen  though  that  I'm 
*  going  off  on  a  little  trip,  Josie.  I've  never  seen  any  other  city 
but  New  York  and  Boston  and  I  do  want  to  do  a  little  travelling 
before  I  go  back  to  Shayneford.  However  I  shall  probably  see 
you  again  when  I  return  to  New  York.  I'll  tell  you  all  about 
it  then.  Good-bye,  Josie."  She  bent  and  kissed  her. 

"  Good-bye,  Hester,"  Josie  said.  She  accompanied  Hester  to 
the  door.  But  she  did  not  return  immediately  to  her  dressing. 
Instead  she  stood  for  a  moment  in  the  centre  of  the  room,  thinking. 
Then  she  made  a  sudden  dash  for  the  window  of  the  front  room, 
pulled  up  the  curtain  and  the  sash;  leaned  half-way  out.  She 
stared  frantically  first  up,  then  down  the  street.  Hester  was  not 
in  sight.  A  taxi  three  blocks  off  sped  rapidly  towards  the  dis 
tance. 

But  Hester  was  not  in  that  taxi.  Instead  she  had  gone  into 
the  drug-store  on  the  corner  and  made  a  variety  of  purchases — 
all  of  things  that  came  in  little  high-coloured  boxes  and  bottles. 

The  next  morning  early,  she  went  to  a  department-store  and 
purchased  the  longest  pair  of  cheap  earrings  there,  a  combination 
of  jet  with  rhinestones ;  also  she  bought  a  black  veil  extravagantly 
figured.  Then  she  stayed  the  rest  of  the  day  indoors. 


CHAPTER  XXIX 

WHEN  Hester  lighted  the  gas  that  evening,  she  pulled  down 
the  shade  of  every  window  in  the  apartment.  In  her  bedroom, 
she  lighted  two  gas-jets.  She  opened  the  bundle  of  purchases  that 
she  had  made  the  night  before;  spread  out  on  her  dresser  all  the 
little  boxes  and  bottles;  broke  covers,  removed  stoppers.  There 
was  a  round  box  of  a  caked  white  powder,  a  square  one  of  deep 
pink  rouge;  a  diamond-shaped  one  of  pale  pink  nail-dust.  One 
bottle  held  a  white  liquid  which,  however  frequently  shaken,  con 
stantly  divided  into  two  parts,  a  thick  white  sediment  below,  a 
thin  white  liquid  above.  A  jar  held  a  soft  fine  face  cream. 
There  were  eyebrow  pencils,  eyelash  brushes,  a  lip-stick,  a  rabbit's 
foot,  a  powder-pad.  There  was  a  bottle  of  perfumery. 

Hester  took  off  the  light  house-gown  which  she  had  been  wearing 
all  day.  She  removed  the  hairpins  from  the  front  of  her  hair, 
swabbed  the  hair  back  with  a  brush,  pegged  it  down  with  side- 
combs,  until  all  exposed,  bare,  unmitigated,  her  face  dropped  its 
freckled  oval  pendent  from  a  plane  of  gold.  She  painted  over  her 
freckles  a  fair  reproduction  of  the  mask  which  Josie  had  put 
there  the  day  before.  She  did  her  hair  very  carefully  in  the  way 
Josie  had  done  it,  catching  many  little  curving  curling  wisps 
down  on  her  forehead  with  invisible  hairpins.  Then  she  drew 
on  the  new  pale-yellow  waist  with  the  butter-coloured  lace, 
the  new  reseda-green  skirt  which  Ellen  Day  had  made;  turned 
back  a  little  deeper  the  modest  V  at  the  neck.  By  means 
of  their  tiny  screws,  she  hung  the  jet-and-rhinestone  earrings 
on  her  ear-lobes.  She  put  on  the  little  reseda-green  jacket. 
She  donned  the  black  foliage-trimmed  hat  that  Maud  Morpeth 
had  fashioned  for  her;  draped  over  it,  so  that  it  fell  on  both  sides 
of  her  face,  the  heavily-spotted  new  veil.  She  drew  on  long  white 
gloves.  Last  of  all,  and  this  after  she  had  started  for  the  door, 
turning  back  hastily  as  one  who  forgets  something,  she  poured 
some  perfumery  from  the  untapped  bottle  into  the  V  at  her  neck. 

Early  in  April,  it  was  a  comparatively  soft  night.  The  city 
had  begun  to  flicker  light;  to  flash  colour;  to  rock  with  gaiety. 
It  had  responded  to  the  peremptory  invitation  of  the  spring  with 
what  seemed  more  than  its  normal  crowd.  Hester,  all  the  usual 

420 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  421 

hesitation  gone  from  her  gait,  walked  briskly  north  and  east.  She 
stopped  at  the  Grand  Central  Station;  passed  into  its  brilliant 
glare. 

She  went  immediately  to  the  huge  main  room;  stood  for  an 
instant  under  the  painted  azure,  star-specked  firmament,  looking 
this  way  and  that  over  the  yellow  floor  with  its  criss-crossing  files 
of  figures;  crossed  to  the  side  where  trains  were  arriving.  There 
she  stood  examining  keenly  the  incoming  throngs,  as  one  expecting 
a  friend.  She  did  not  glance  at  the  women.  The  men  she  gave  a 
close  scrutiny.  Of  some  that  examination  was  brief;  it  ended  in 
an  instant ;  of  others  it  was  longer.  All  kinds  of  men  passed :  little 
and  insignificant;  short  and  fat;  tall  and  lean;  big  and  imposing; 
mean,  dirty,  vacuous,  lascivious,  scholarly,  well-bred,  absorbed, 
frigid.  Here  a  smartly-dressed,  clean-sharen,  alert-looking 
typical  New  Yorker  held  her  gaze  with  his  quick,  sure  move 
ments.  There  a  middle-aged  man,  florid,  prematurely  white,  hand 
some,  caught  her  flickering  attention.  Again,  it  was  a  dashing 
carriage,  a  debonnair  face,  a  gay  smile,  a  ringing  laugh  that  pulled 
her  gaze  this  way  and  that.  Some  of  the  men,  glancing  in  her 
direction,  darted  at  her  a  look  that  grew  liquid  with  invitation. 
And  one,  brushing  close,  muttered  something  inarticulate  under 
his  breath. 

Train-load  after  train-load  poured  through  the  gates;  deployed 
over  the  huge  room,  disappeared  through  various  exits.  Hundreds, 
thousands  added  their  transient  numbers  to  the  population  of  the 
night-blooming  metropolis.  Many  of  these  were  obviously  subur 
banites,  come  for  an  evening's  entertainment.  Others  carried 
suitcases,  valises,  boxes,  bags,  bundles,  travelling  impedimenta, 
elegant  or  plebeian,  or  frankly  makeshift;  or  were  assisted  by  red- 
capped  porters.  Hester's  scrutiny  always  grew  more  close  as  these 
pilgrims  passed. 

Suddenly  her  eye  fell  on  a  man  in  the  midst  of  such  a  pro 
cession  of  burdened  travellers.  He  had  just  come  from  the  country 
— that  was  evident.  He  carried  a  cheap  telescope  suitcase.  He 
was  a  born  countryman,  that  after  a  longer  look  was  also  evident. 
Big,  broad-shouldered,  tanned,  he  wore  a  long  rough  shapeless 
overcoat  and  a  visor-cap.  From  under  the  razor-like  rim  of  the 
cap  came  curls  of  a  deep  brick  red,  reached  in  scallops  on,  his 
forehead.  In  his  shaven  neck,  however,  his  hair  made  a  sym 
metrical  arc.  His  skin  would  undoubtedly  have  been  that  white 
which  goes  with  red  hair  if  it  had  not  been  first  burned  and 
then  bronzed  by  the  weather.  A  porter  reached  for  his  bag 
and  he  said  his  refusing  thanks  with  the  ready  smile  of  one  who 


422  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

is  grateful  for  a  courtesy.  His  teeth  were  like  milk  and  that 
smile  flashed  a  soft  pleasing  ripple  of  white  across  the  hard, 
brown  surface  of  his  face.  His  clear,  cool,  country  gaze  which 
had  begun,  as  it  penetrated  the  enormous  station,  to  show  a  sense 
of  its  overpowering  bigness  and  noise,  came  to  Hester,  lingered 
on  her  for  a  shy  and  respectful  interval;  went  again  to  the  huge 
spaces  that  confronted  him.  He  passed. 

Hester's  eyes  had  riveted  on  him.  Now  they  followed  him.  Her 
figure  grew  tense.  He  was  disappearing  into  a  crowd.  Suddenly 
she  broke  into  a  dash,  hurried  to  his  side. 

"  I've  been  waiting  a  long  time  here  for  you,"  she  murmured 
in  his  ear. 

When  Hester  returned  to  her  apartment  the  next  day,  she  wrote 
three  letters. 

To  her  mother,  she  said: 

"  I'm  starting  off  for  a  week  or  ten  days'  trip  to  Washington — 
and  if  my  money  holds  out  I  may  go  on  to  Baltimore  and  Rich 
mond.  It's  a  little  lonesome  here  without  Southward  and  as  I 
have  always  wanted  to  see  those  cities,  it  seems  to  me  that  now 
is  a  good  time  to  do  it.  It  won't  cost  you  any  more  because  I 
haven't  used  all  my  own  money  yet.  I  don't  know  exactly  where 
I'll  be  but  you'd  better  send  your  letters  General  Delivery,  Wash 
ington,  until  I  give  you  further  particulars.  If  anybody  should 
ask  my  address,  don't  give  it.  Say  that  my  movements  are  so 
uncertain  that  you  can't  tell  anything  about  them.  The  fact  is 
I  don't  want  to  have  to  write  any  letters." 

To  Southward,  she  wrote  substantially  the  same  thing,  omitting 
any  address. 

To  John,  she  wrote,  "I  want  to  be  alone  where  I  won't  hare 
to  talk  with  anybody  and  can  think  things  out.  So  I'm  going 
away  for  a  little  while.  I'll  write  when  I  come  back."  She  omitted 
the  address  from  this  also. 

Then  she  packed  her  trunk  and  sent  it  off. 

On  the  way  to  the  station  she  ran  into  Dwight.  "  Whither 
away  so  early  in  the  morning,  fair  maid  ? "  he  inquired  blithely. 
"  And  why  in  such  glad  raiment  clad  ? " 

"  I'm  going  off  for  a  little  visit,"  Hester  answered,  looking  him 
steadily  in  the  eye. 

"  My  word,  you  certainly  look  blooming !  If  it  weren't  Hester 
the  Daughter  of  the  Puritans,  I  would  say  that  you  had  a  regular 
actorine  make-up  on  under  that  veil.  How  long  are  you  going 
to  stay?" 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  423 

"A  week  perhaps." 

"  Southward  saying  anything  definite  about  her  return  in  her 
letters  to  you  ? "  Dwight  asked,  a  little  stress  on  the  word,  you. 

"  No.  She  said  about  three  weeks  when  she  left — and  she  hasn't 
changed  her  plans  yet.  I  expect  I'll  be  back  before  she  is.  I  wrote 
her  so  last  night.  I  thought  this  would  be  a  good  opportunity 
while  Southward  was  away  to  make  some  little  visits  that  I've 
got  to  get  done,  before  I  go  home.  The  apartment  looked  quite 
sad  when  I  left  it." 

"  Oh,  say — I'm  glad  you  spoke  of  that.  Do  you  mind  my  using 
your  place  to  write  in  while  you're  gone?  I  promise  to  keep  it 
as  neat  as  possible." 

"  Of  course,  Dwight,"  Hester  answered  readily.  "  Use  it  all 
you  want.  Here  are  the  two  keys — this  one's  the  outer  door,  this 
the  inner." 

"  Gee,  that'll  be  great,"  Dwight  said.  "  I'm  not  writing  at 
Azile's  any  more.  It  was  getting  to  be  too  much  of  an  imposition 
— as  busy  as  they  are  up  there.  Well,  so  long,  Hester.  Hope  you 
have  a  good  time.  See  you  when  you  get  back." 


CHAPTEK  XXX 

IT  was  not  a  week  but  a  month  later  when  Hester  returned  to 
her  apartment.  She  found  a  note  from  Dwight  which  dated  back 
a  week. 

"  Thank  you  for  your  hospitality,  Hester,"  it  said.  "  I've  got 
along  rippingly  here  and  now  I'm  off  to  New  Hampshire  to  stay 
with  dad  for  a  while.  I  find  I'm  a  little  seedy.  Too  much  dissipa 
tion,  I  suppose.  The  people  in  the  office  have  been  very  good 
about  giving  me  a  lay-off.  Hope  to  see  you  soon,  if  not  here, 
perhaps  in  Shayneford." 

There  was  also  a  brief  letter  from  Southward  saying  that  she 
was  not  coming  back  to  New  York  and  asking  Hester,  as  soon 
as  she  returned  from  her  trip,  to  pack  up  the  rest  of  her  things 
and  send  them  to  Long  Lanes.  Hester  did  not  do  this  immedi 
ately.  She  did  not  even  unpack  her  own  trunk.  But  from  the 
top  tray  she  took  the  letters,  which  had  come  to  her  regularly 
during  her  absence,  from  John.  She  read  these  three  times  from 
beginning  to  end. 

The  first  letter  said  among  other  things,  "  You  were  quite  right 
about  Edith — only  it's  more  horrible  than  we  guessed.  When  I 
came  to  hunt  her  up  in  Raleigh,  I  found  her  in  a  little  frame 
two-story  house,  no  aunt  there.  There  never  had  been  any  aunt. 
The  aunt  was  her  excuse  to  get  off  alone.  However,  to  begin  at 
the  beginning,  I  had  a  show-down  with  Rena,  that  afternoon.  I 
went  straight  to  her  from  your  place.  As  you  guessed,  she  had 
begun  to  suspect  but  was  not  quite  certain.  She  said  she  had 
made  up  her  mind  to  talk  it  over  with  you,  was  coming  the  next 
day  to  your  apartment.  I  took  Rena  with  me  and  together  we 
faced  and  accused  Edith.  At  first,  she  denied  it;  then  broke 
down  and  told  the  whole  story.  It's  ghastly,  but  that  will  have 
to  wait;  I  can't  tell  it  now.  I've  engaged  a  house  for  Edith  in 
Morriston.  Such  a  home,  all  jigsaw  and  wooden  lace.  When  you 
consider  Edith's  tastes — however,  I  was  in  a  hurry  and  it  had  to 
do.  Rena  will  stay  there  with  her.  It's  going  to  be  a  long  fight, 
but  we've  got  to  win  and  we're  going  to  win.  Just  as  soon  as 
Edith  feels  like  seeing  anybody,  of  course  she'll  want  to  see  you. 
She  doesn't  know  that  you  know.  It  didn't  occur  to  her  that  you 

424 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  425 

might  know,  and  so  we  haven't  had  to  lie.  It's  going  to  be  hell 
at  first,  gradually  reducing  her  supplies.  Of  course  she'll  hate 
us  both  and  mistrust  everybody.  Rena  is  the  very  quintessence 
of  love,  devotion,  and  tact.  I  shall  commute  every  night  for  a 
while.  I  forgot  to  say  that  Mrs.  Pelham  is  chaperoning  the 
arrangement.  Of  course  we  had  to  take  her  into  our  confidence. 
She  was  not  so  surprised  as  we  expected.  She  said  that  her  intui 
tion  told  her  that  something  was  wrong  with  Edith,  something 
more  serious  than  a  passing  illness.  She  had  never  thought  of 
drugs  though.  I'm  coming  to  see  you  as  soon  as  I  can.  Don't 
forget,  Hester,  that  I  love  you,  love  you,  love  you — love  you  as 
I  never  loved  before  and  will  never  love  again.  Our  talk  the 
other  day  was  but  the  beginning  of  many  talks.  We've  got  to 
work  out  this  situation  together  until  the  way  lies  clear  before  us. 
You  don't  know,  you  never  will  know — whatever  happens — what 
happiness  my  love  for  you  and  your  love  for  me  means  to  me 
and  will  always  mean  to  me." 

The  other  letters  gave  bulletins  of  Edith's  condition,  most  of 
them  far  from  optimistic.  Somewhere  in  them  always  came  a 
variant  of  this  plea.  "  For  God's  sake,  write  to  me  when  you 
can.  Let  me  know  where  you  are  and  what  you're  doing  and 
when  I  can  see  you.  I'm  living  under  a  fearful  strain,  Hester. 
Don't  make  it  harder." 

Strange  expressions  sped  across  Hester's  face  as  she  read. 
Sometimes  it  lighted  with  a  brilliancy  that  would  perhaps  have 
surprised  John.  Again  it  dulled  to  an  apathy  that  even  her 
Shayneford  days  had  never  seen. 

When  she  had  finished  reading  the  letters  the  third  time,  she 
destroyed  them.  Then  she  wrote  John.  "  I'm  back  in  New  York, 
but  I'm  on  the  wing.  I  still  don't  want  to  see  anybody.  I  think 
I've  worked  everything  out.  Do  you  remember  how  often  I've 
complained  to  you  that  I've  never  broken  through  into  life?  I 
think  I've  done  that  at  last  but  I'm  not  sure.  I'll  see  you  when 
I  can  and  in  the  meantime  I'll  write  when  I'm  sure." 

That  afternoon  she  ransacked  the  East  Side  between  Four 
teenth  and  Twenty-third  Streets  for  a  boarding-house.  Finding 
one,  she  gave  notice  by  telephone  that  she  was  leaving  the 
apartment.  The  next  morning  she  moved  into  her  new  quarters. 
She  left  no  address  with  the  janitor. 

A  week  drifted  by. 

Superficially  her  days  were  long  purposeless  ones.  In  the 
morning,  she  stayed  in  bed  as  late  as  was  possible  and  yet  get 
into  the  dining-room  for  breakfast.  Until  luncheon,  she  busied 


426  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

herself  in  her  room,  dusting,  mending,  darning.  The  afternoons 
were  given  to  long  aimless  tramps.  From  river  to  river,  across  on 
one  street,  back  on  another;  up  the  more  remote  Avenues  as  far 
as  her  strength  would  bear  her;  then  back  by  surface-car,  or 
elevated,  or  subway.  Across  bridges  and  into  strange  new  regions 
which  her  eyes  always  examined  and  of  which  her  absent  mind — • 
it  was  quite  evident — took  no  note.  Over  the  bay  in  ferries,  study 
ing  with  an  appearance  of  interest  that  was  a  mere  mask,  stretches 
of  river  flecked  with  water-craft.  In  the  evenings,  and  they  were 
long  ones,  lasting  till  midnight,  she  wrote  letters  to  her  mother, 
full  of  detailed  descriptions  of  a  purely  imaginary  gaiety,  in 
which  John's  name  constantly  recurred;  read  herself  to  sleep;  or 
went  to  bed  to  lie  for  hours,  staring  open-eyed  at  the  ceiling. 
Yet  under  all  this  lassitude  and  purposelessness,  existed  some 
thing  tense,  an  expectancy  that  foamed  with  feverish  anxiety  as 
one,  two,  three,  four  days  went  by.  Another  week  and  she  was  an 
embodied  restlessness,  torn  by  conflicting  impulses. 

In  the  meantime,  spring  had  come  to  stay.  One  by  one  she  had 
redeemed  those  promises  dropped  so  carelessly  two  months  ago. 
The  winter  sky  had  melted  and  dropped  to  the  earth  in  a  hundred 
spring  showers,  revealing  behind  it  a  summer  sky  of  the  tenderest 
blue.  Flowering  trees  and  shrubs  had  changed  from  wind-blown 
gauzes  of  white  or  pink  to  sturdy  leafhood.  The  early  spring 
flowers  had  come  and  gone.  The  grass-plots  were  speckled  with 
later  ones.  The  rivers  ran  smooth  and  blue  between  their  filthy 
banks.  Some  singing  birds  visited  Manhattan;  and  a  few  stayed. 

All  the  usual  signs  of  an  accepted  spring  on  the  part  of 
the  human  plant  manifested  themselves  with  equal  inevitability. 
The  streets  blossomed  with  new  clothes,  high-coloured  and  frailly 
beautiful.  The  crowd  on  the  Avenue  thickened.  Visitors  grew 
more  numerous  every  day.  Buyers  from  the  West  and  South 
appeared.  The  air  began  to  fill  with  the  annual  feminist  ferment. 
Suffrage  flags  flashed  everywhere.  The  words  VOTES  FOR 
WOMEN  in  black  on  yellow  backgrounds  or  against  stripes  of 
green  and  purple  and  white  began  to  pervade  the  Manhattan 
world.  Vivid  suffrage  posters  flared  from  windows.  Suffragists — 
beribboned,  berosetted,  becockaded,  bepinned — held  meetings  on 
street  corners;  sold  copies  of  the  yellow  Equal  Franchise;  solicited 
names  for  the  parade;  made  speeches  in  halls  and  vaudeville- 
houses,  between  the  acts  at  the  drama;  invaded  cafes,  restaurants, 
foyers  of  theatres,  and  lobbies  of  hotels. 

One  afternoon  Hester  started  to  walk  as  usual.  But  although 
her  air  of  restless  waiting  and  of  nervous  anxiety  stayed  with 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  427 

her,  she  moved  briskly  as  one  who  has  an  object.  A  little  way 
up  an  avenue,  she  turned  into  a  side  street.  Midway  in  the  block 
was  a  house  bearing  a  physician's  sign.  She  rang  the  bell. 

When  she  came  out,  the  look  of  waiting  and  of  anxiety,  all  the 
restlessness  and  nervousness,  had  gone.  She  was  quiet.  But  she 
walked  no  longer'  with  her  head  down,  as  one  who  does  not  care 
where  she  is  going;  but  with  her  eyes  up  and  boring  straight 
ahead,  as  one  who  sees  a  vision  at  the  end  of  a  long  tunnel.  In 
voluntarily  she  had  turned  towards  Fifth  Avenue.  And  now  a 
bugle-call  brought  her  eyes  to  the  earth.  Just  ahead,  forming  a 
human  barrier  across  the  vacant  sunlit  side  street,  was  a  crowd 
of  people.  As  though  welcoming  this  diversion,  Hester  threw  her 
self  against  that  barrier,  wormed  her  way  through  the  mass. 
People  pushed  her  and  pulled  her;  stared  at  her;  commented  in 
audible  and  unmeasured  terms  on  her  relentless  persistence.  It 
was  quite  evident  that  she  heard  none  of  this.  She  found  herself 
presently  in  the  front  row  standing  beside  a  policeman.  Across 
the  street  stretched  another  massed  body  of  spectators.  Music 
sounded. 

A  parade  was  coming  up  the  street. 

A  company  of  mounted  police  headed  this  parade.  Behind  the 
parade  came  a  band  playing  "  The  Marseillaise."  Behind  the  band 
walked  alone  a  tall  beautiful  young  woman  in  white,  carrying  a  big 
yellow  suffrage  flag.  Behind  her,  on  a  white  horse,  rode  another 
woman,  young  also,  beautiful  and  in  white,  carrying  a  big  Ameri 
can  flag.  Behind  her  came  many  women  on  horseback.  Behind 
the  horsewomen  came  women  on  foot.  More  women  and  more 
women  and  more  women,  pouring  up  from  Washington  Square. 
Women  and  women  and  women,  making  straight  for  a  goal  under 
the  distant  shadowy  bank  of  the  Park  trees.  Eight  abreast  they 
marched,  and  in  the  middle  of  the  street.  On  both  sides  of  them, 
planes  of  asphalt,  glassy  as  mica,  stretched  utterly  bare  to  the 
curbs.  As  far  as  the  eye  could  see  those  glassy  planes  were  lined 
with  dense  black-and-white,  yellow-specked  crowds  that  ran 
smoothly  over  sidewalks,  up  steps;  invaded  windows;  covered 
roofs— like  a  heavy  human  fungus.  As  far  as  the  eye  could  see, 
those  glassy  planes  were  separated  by  the  stream  of  striding 
women,  bearing  a  thick  forest  of  banners  that  flaunted  every 
color  of  the  rainbow — like  a  moving  flower-bed.  Here  and  there, 
first  at  the  right,  then  at  the  left,  a  marshal,  white-clad,  held  the 
line  in  order  and  in  step.  Here  and  there,  first  at  the  left  and 
then  at  the  right,  a  policeman  on  horseback  movelessly  surveyed 
the  scene.  More  women  and  more  women  and  more  women,  still 


428  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

pouring  up  the  Avenue  from  Washington  Square.  Women  and 
women  and  women,  still  marching  towards  that  goal  under  the 
shadowy  Park  trees.  All  kinds  of  women.  Women  of  the  arts, 
the  professions,  the  trades,  the  home.  They  waved  all  kinds  of 
flags.  They  bore  all  kinds  of  mottoes.  They  wore  all  kinds  of 
clothes.  Delegations  from  foreign  countries  showed  the  brilliant 
colors  of  peasant  costumes.  Delegations  of  college  students,  in 
caps  and  gowns,  made  black-and-white  notes  in  this  futuristic 
welter.  Carriages  and  motors  bore  wrinkled,  white-haired  old 
ladies,  wearing  yellow  badges,  whose  childhood  had  seen  the  in 
ception  of  this  movement.  Mrs.  Edgerley  carrying  a  yellow  flag, 
carne  in  a  carriage  alone — little,  still,  solemn,  her  spirit  pouring 
in  white  fire  through  her  tiny  tired  face.  Young  mothers  pushed 
perambulators,  wound  in  yellow,  holding  babies  who  would  per 
haps  see  the  fruition  of  this  movement.  Mrs.  Fanshawe  wheeled 
the  twins,  big-eyed,  apple-cheeked,  and  smiling  from  under  little 
yellow  caps.  And  more  women  and  more  women  and  more 
women,  still  pouring  up  from  Washington  Square.  Women  and 
women  and  women,  still  striding  towards  that  goal  under  the 
shadowy  Park  trees.  Then  came  whole  families  marching  to 
gether.  Then  came  the  men,  hundreds  strong.  Then  came  the 
socialists,  men  and  women,  hundreds  strong.  And  then  more  of  the 
striding  women.  Always  by  eights.  Marching  when  they  could 
hear  the  music  with  grace  and  precision.  Marching  when  they 
could  not  hear  it,  raggedly  and  out  of  step.  Old  women  and 
young  women.  Big  women  and  little  women.  Fat  women  and 
thin  women.  Pretty  women  and  ugly  women.  Well-dressed 
women  and  shabby  women.  White  women  and  black  women. 
Nondescript  women  and  distinguished  women.  Self-conscious 
women  and  unembarrassed  women.  Frank,  free,  fine  women. 
Tired,  dull,  sodden  women.  Inspired  women.  Hopeless  women. 
Gay,  gallant  women.  Dry,  flavourless  women.  More  women  and 
more  women  and  mere  women.  Pouring  up  from  Washington 
Square  as  though  all  the  women  in  the  world  had  gathered 
there.  Women  and  women  and  women.  Striding  towards  that 
goal  under  the  shadowy  Park  trees  as  though  everything  that 
Woman  desired  awaited  them  there. 

Hester  reached  the  Avenue  at  three  o'clock  that  Saturday  after 
noon  of  early  May  and  she  stood  there  until  eight,  watching. 
She  did  not  speak  once.  But  from  marchers  came  so  often  a 
variation  of  the  following  dialogue  that  it  is  strange  it  did  not 
penetrate  even  her  absorption. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  429 

"Did  you  notice  that  tall  blond  girl  that  we  passed  on  the 
right?  The  tears  were  just  streaming  down  her  face." 

"  Yes.    But  if  she's  so  interested,  I  wonder  she  isn't  marching." 

"  Perhaps  she'll  fall  in." 

But  Hester  did  not  fall  in. 

There  came  two  more  months  of  waiting  in  the  little  boarding- 
house.  A  different  waiting  now.  Hester  began  to  busy  herself. 
She  sewed  in  the  morning.  She  took  long  walks  in  the  afternoon, 
but  her  walks  were  brisk  because  generally  there  was  an  object 
at  the  end  of  them.  As  was  inevitable  she  became  better  ac 
quainted  with  the  people  in  the  boarding-house,  but  she  carefully 
avoided  intimacy.  She  never  went  to  any  room  but  her  own,  and 
her  fellow-boarders  never  came  to  hers.  Her  mother's  letters  began 
to  change  in  tone.  All  along  they  had  encouraged  her  to  stay. 
Now  they  began  to  suggest  that  she  come  home,  suggested  first; 
then  urged;  then  commanded.  For  a  long  time,  Hester's  answers 
pleaded  for  just  a  few  days  more.  Finally  a  letter  came  which 
said,  "  This  is  the  last  money  I  shall  send  you."  Hester  did  not 
look  surprised  when  she  read  it.  She  smiled  a  little.  And  that 
afternoon  she  began  to  pack. 


CHAPTER  XXXI 

SHE  walked  in  on  her  mother  the  next  night.  Only  one  lamp 
was  lighted  and  Mrs.  Crowell  sat  in  the  glow,  knitting.  She  looked 
very  handsome,  very  majestic  in  one  of  the  simple  gowns,  of 
almost  uniform  plainness,  which  she  habitually  wore. 

"  Well,"  she  exclaimed,  "  decided  to  come  home  at  last — did 
you  ? "  Her  tone  was  not  ill-natured  and  she  kissed  her  daughter. 
"  I  thought  I  never  was  going  to  see  you  again.  It's  the  second 
of  July,  miss,  and  you've  been  gone  nine  months.  I'm  glad  you're 
back  for  the  Fourth.  Hungry  ?  " 

"  I  had  a  late  luncheon  on  the  New  York  train,  but  not  time 
for  anything  more  than  a  cup  of  coffee  in  the  South  Station. 
If  there's  anything  to  eat " 

They  went  into  the  kitchen  together.  Hester  removed  only  her 
hat. 

"  Aren't  you  going  to  take  your  coat  off  and  stay  awhile  I "  her 
mother  rallied  her. 

"  I'm  going  to  stay,"  Hester  said  with  a  brief  evanescent  smile, 
"  but  I  won't  take  my  coat  off  just  yet.  Somehow  the  house  seems 
a  little  cold  to  me.  I've  got  accustomed  to  steam  heat,  you  see." 

She  sat  down  at  the  place  which  her  mother  spread  for  her. 
Mrs.  Crowell,  talking  all  the  time,  brought  food  from  the  ice-box; 
warmed  up  some  of  it ;  made  tea.  "  Lucky  the  fire  hadn't  gone 
down,"  she  said.  "  You've  grown  a  lot  stouter,"  she  added,  looking 
keenly  at  Hester  for  an  instant.  "  I  must  say  it's  becoming. 
You  always  were  too  thin,  Hester." 

"  Yes,  I've  gained  some,"  Hester  admitted.  "  What's  that?  Oh, 
Tabby."  She  leaned  down  and  scooped  the  cat  off  the  floor,  held 
her  in  her  arms,  petting  her.  "  You  got  rid  of  her  last  family, 
didn't  you?" 

"Yes.  I  never  thought  I  would  though.  I  gave  away  the  last 
one  yesterday.  That's  why  she's  so  lonesome.  Seems  as  if  every 
body  in  Shayneford  now  had  one  of  Tabby's  kittens.  I'm  afraid 
we'll  have  to  drown  some  of  the  next  litter." 

tf  Poor  little  Tabby !  "  Hester  mused  softly.  "  To  bring  so  many 
babies  into  the  world  and  then  never  really  to  enjoy  any  of  them." 
She  smoothed  the  cat's  head  delicately  between  the  ears.  Tabby 
responded  with  purrs  of  approval. 

430 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  431 

"  Well,  you've  had  a  fine  time,  Hester,"  her  mother  said  when 
they  came  from  the  faintly-lighted  kitchen  to  the  shadowy  living- 
room.  She  seated  herself  full  in  the  light  of  the  lamp;  resumed 
her  knitting.  Hester  however  chose  a  shadowy  corner.  Her 
mother  glanced  at  her  from  time  to  time.  Hester  was  quiet  but 
she  was  very  different  from  the  girl  who  had  last  occupied  that 
chair.  Her  quiet  was  no  longer  supineness,  indecision,  lassitude. 
It  seemed  rather  the  emanation  of  a  big  central  force.  Now  when 
she  moved,  it  was  with  briskness,  precision,  determination. 

"  You're  improved,"  her  mother  vouchsafed  briefly. 

"  I'm  glad  you  think  so,  mother,"  Hester  answered.  "  I  feel 
myself  that  I've  improved.  In  fact,  I'm  a  different  woman,  in 
many  ways.  I've  got  so  much  to  tell  you  that  I  really  don't  know 
where  to  begin.  And  in  fact,  I  don't  think  I  will  begin  now.  If 
you  don't  mind  I'm  going  to  run  over  to  see  Southward  for  a 
few  minutes." 

"  Why,  you've  just  come  home,"  her  mother  expostulated. 

"  I  know.  But  I  have  special  reasons.  I've  got  to  give  South 
ward  some  messages  as  soon  as  possible.  Somebody  is  sure  to 
call  this  evening.  Plenty  saw  me  at  the  station.  I  feel  awfully 
tired.  I  don't  want  to  talk  to  anybody  just  yet  but  you.  You 
and  Southward.  But  after  I  get  home,  I'll  talk  all  night  if  you 
want." 

Mrs.  Crowell  looked  dissatisfied.  A  question  arose  to  her  lips, 
hovered  there.  She  forced  it  back.  "  All  right,"  she  agreed  with 
an  unaccustomed  air  of  uncertainty,  "be  back  as  soon  as  you 
can." 

Hester  strode  swiftly  through  the  soft  summer  night,  in  the 
direction  of  Long  Lanes.  So  quick  was  her  gait,  so  motive-driven 
and  speed-fired  that  of  the  three  people  she  passed  on  the  road, 
two  did  not  recognise  her.  The  third  called  out,  "  Is  that  you, 
Hester  Crowell?  My  land,  I'd  never  known  you,  if  I  hadn't 
heard  you  were  here.  Where  you  steaming  to  ?  " 

Hester  answered,  "  Hullo,  Libbie.  I'm  going  to  Southward's. 
See  you  soon,  I  hope."  She  went  on  with  unimpeded  speed. 

At  Long  Lanes,  Mr.  Drake  opened  the  door  for  her,  welcomed 
her  in  his  heartiest  manner.  Southward  was  in  the  garret,  he 
informed  her.  Hester  stayed  for  a  decent  interval  with  Mrs. 
Drake  and  Charlotte,  answered  the  volleys  of  questions  from  the 
former,  listened  with  interest  to  Charlotte's  ecstasies  in  regard  to 
her  clearing  sight.  After  a  while,  however,  she  took  a  candle, 
sped  up  the  stairs  to  the  dimly-lighted  garret. 

Southward  was  lying  on  the  chaise-longue)  reading.     As  the 


432  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

light  came  up  through  the  stair-opening,  she  raised  herself  with 
a  surprised  expression.  "  Hail,  Lady  of  Kingdoms ! "  Hester 
called. 

Southward  jumped  to  her  feet.  "  Good  heavens,  Better !  Where 
did  you  come  from  ?  " 

"  New  York,"  Hester  answered,  kissing  her. 

"  Lord,  Hetter,  I'm  glad  to  see  you.  You're  the  one  best  bet  in 
a  land  of  fakes.  When  did  you  get  in  ?  " 

"  The  seven  train.  Surprised  mother.  I  came  over  here  as  soon 
as  I  could  get  away." 

"  I  suppose  you're  home  for  keeps  now." 

"No,"  Hester  said.  "It's  about  that* that  I've  come  over  here. 
I've  come  to  say  good-bye.  I'm  going  away  to-morrow.  I  don't 
know  how  long  I'm  going  to  stay  or  when  I'll  come  back — if  I 
ever  do  come  back.  And,  Southward,  here's  where  you  must 
remember  our  old  compact.  I  don't  want  you  to  ask  me  where 
I'm  going  or  why.  I  can't  tell  anybody  and  I  don't  want  to  lie 
to  you.  Nobody  knows — not  even  mother  yet.  Things  have  hap 
pened,  terrible,  beautiful.  I  can't  tell  you  about  them  now.  But 
I  shall  tell  you  as  soon  as  I  can  tell  anybody.  And  probably  I 
shall  never  tell  but  one  other  person  beside  you." 

Southward  stared.  "Let's  sit  down,"  she  said  abruptly.  She 
seated  herself  on  the  chaise-longue  and  Hester  took  the  wing- 
chair.  "  Of  course  I'll  do  anything  you  ask,  Hetter.  It  all  sounds 
awfully  mysterious.  But  I  guess  you  know  what  you're  doing. 
And  I  don't  care  what  it  is  as  long  as  you're  doing  something. 
You've  changed,  Hetter — even  since  I  saw  you.  You're  much 
stouter.  You're  improved.  New  York  did  that,  didn't  it  ?  " 

"  Something  did.  You  don't  look  as  well  as  you  did  when  you 
left  New  York,  Southward.  What's  the  matter?" 

"  I  expect  Charlotte's  operation  dragged  me  down  a  little.  It 
was  considerable  responsibility  to  take.  And  there's  been  some 
care  since.  She's  getting  along  splendidly  though." 

"  Yes,  I  could  see  that.    Oh,  I'm  so  glad." 

"This  year  has  brought  its  changes,  hasn't  it?"  Southward 
commented  sombrely,  "  changes  for  all  of  us.  Charlotte — you — 
me." 

"And  the  strangest  of  all,"  Hester  said,  "is  what  it's  done  to 
me.  The  restoration  of  Charlotte's  sight  seems  meagre  beside  it. 
I'm  a  different  woman.  And  my  life  henceforward  will  be  utterly 
changed.  The  old  Hester  is  dead.  How  queer  it  all  seems !  After 
this  evening  I  shall  be  gone.  And  I  don't  know  when  I'll  see  you 
again." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  433 

"I  don't  think  we'll  be  separated  long,"  Southward  prophesied 
with  a  sombre  optimism.  "  We  have  many  things  in  common 
that  will  bring  us  together." 

"  Perhaps."    Hester  seemed  to  agree. 

They  talked  of  many  things.  Once  Hester  asked,  "  Is  it  true 
what  mother  says  about  Lysander  and  Pearl  ? "  and  Southward 
answered,  "  Seems  to  be." 

Southward  asked  careless  questions  about  New  York  and  their 
friends  there.  She  left  none  of  them  out.  Hester  answered  them 
as  fully  as  she  could.  Only  in  regard  to  Edith's  illness  was  she 
evasive.  She  said  simply  that  it  looked  like  a  complete  nervous 
breakdown. 

"I've  thought  that  she  was  delicate,  from  the  very  beginning," 
was  Southward's  unsuspecting  comment  on  this.  "  I'm  awfully 
sorry.  I  like  Edith — always  have." 

Hester's  information  in  regard  to  Dwight  was  meagre.  South 
ward  did  not  undeceive  her  as  to  the  real  cause  of  his  absence 
from  New  York.  Of  Azile,  Hester  had  little  to  say — beyond  the 
fact  that  she  had  sailed  for  Europe.  Of  Morena,  she  knew  nothing. 

Their  leave-taking  was  simple  and  unprotracted. 

"  Good-bye,  Southward,"  Hester  said  with  dry  eyes  and  a  steady 
voice,  "  I  hope  it  will  be  soon." 

"  Good-bye,  Hetter,"  Southward  returned,  "  the  sooner  the 
better." 

For  a  moment,  before  she  kissed  Southward  and  disappeared 
down  the  stairs,  Hester  stared  about  at  the  extraordinary  jumble 
of  background,  yellow,  rose,  cherry;  old  mahogany,  old  glass, 
books,  Chinese  coats,  unframed  pictures,  and  plaster  statuettes. 
Perhaps  this  one  spot  of  colour  in  her  grey  womanhood  showed 
a  new  aspect  just  as  she  left  it.  Perhaps  she  wanted  to  deepen 
what  memory  of  it  she  was  carrying  into  the  unknown.  Perhaps 
in  the  light  of  later  experiences,  terrific  but  more  human,  it  took 
on  a  strange  appearance  of  futility.  Perhaps  merely  a  sense  of 
sorrow  burned  in  her  heart.  Whatever  it  was,  her  mood  found 
no  expression. 

"  Don't  come  downstairs  with  me,  please,  Southward,"  she 
begged,  "  I'd  rather  you  wouldn't.  I  want  to  remember  you  here." 

In  another  instant  she  was  gone. 

"  Well,"  her  mother  greeted  her  return.  "  You  were  right  about 
the  callers.  There's  been  any  God's  quantity  of  them  since  you 
left.  Mrs.  Peters  and  Mrs.  Tubman  and  Flora  and  Sue-Salome. 
And  all  as  full  of  questions  as  they  could  stick.  I  don't  think 
anything  that's  happened  in  the  history  of  the  town  could  have 


434  THE  LADY  OF,  KINGDOMS 

made  so  much  talk  as  you  and  Southward  going  to  New  York 
and  setting  up  housekeeping  there.  And  then  you  staying  so  long. 
I  don't  know  why  it  should — except  that  Southward's  the  kind  of 
girl  that  people  always  gossip  about.  The  scandal  about  her  since 
she's  come  back  is  more  than  a  little.  Of  course  Sarah  Wallis 
isn't  making  any  talk  these  days.  Not  about  anybody.  But  the 
others  say  that  Southward  was  come  up  with  for  the  first  time 
in  her  life,  that  she  tried  her  best  to  get  Dwight  Cameron  but 
that  widow — Mrs.  Morrow — cut  her  out.  Is  that  true,  Hester  ?  " 

Sitting  under  the  lamp  still,  Mrs.  Crowell  took  up  her  knitting. 
Apparently  she  had  had  an  exciting  session.  Two  pink  dashes 
stained  the  powdery  whiteness  of  her  old  skin.  Her  grey  eyes 
glowed  like  black  live  coals. 

"  As  far  as  I  know,  there's  nothing  in  it,  mother,"  Hester 
answered  steadily.  "  It's  rather  dark  here,"  she  said  irrelevantly. 
She  arose  and  lighted  the  two  other  lamps.  Returning  she  stood 
in  the  centre  of  the  room.  "  All  the  time  Southward  was  there, 
she  and  Mrs.  Morrow  were  going  everywhere  together.  Dwight 
took  them  both  about,  took  one,  then  the  other,  or  together  just 
as  it  happened  to  come.  And  Southward  went  about  with  three 
or  four  other  men,  the  way  she's  always  done.  I  would  have  told 
them  that  talk  was  all  nonsense." 

Her  mother  still  addressed  herself  to  her  knitting.  Hester's 
fingers  unbuttoned  her  long  cloak,  drew  it  off.  The  tiny  crash 
of  the  buttons  against  the  chair  on  which  Hester  deposited  it 
drew  her  mother's  eyes  up  again. 

"  Well,  it's  about  time  you  took  off "  The  coal-black  blaze 

in  her  eyes  flashed  out.  They  seemed  to  freeze  to  ice.  "  What's 
the  matter  with  you  ? "  she  asked  in  a  terrible  voice. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

"WHO  is  he?  Who  is  the  father?  If  you  know?  Or  the 
fathers — if  you  don't  know  ?  Tell  me  or  I'll  kill  you !  " 

The  calm  which  Hester  had  presented  to  all  the  violence  of 
the  preceding  hour  did  not  break  now.  "  I  will  not  tell  you, 
mother.  I  told  you  in  the  beginning  that  I  would  not  tell  you. 
And  I  won't.  I  can't.  Only  one  thing.  It  is  not  John  Smith. 
You  know  I  have  never  lied  to  you.  It  is  not  John  Smith.  He 
knows  nothing  about  it.  Possibly  I  can  tell  you  about  it  some 
time,  but  not  now." 

"  Oh,  my  God  I  "  her  mother  groaned.  "  And  it  was  for  this 
that  I  was  sending  you  all  that  money  week  after  week!  What 
do  you  suppose  I  let  you  go  to  New  York  for?  Do  you  think 
it  was  just  to  give  you  a  change?  It  wasn't  that.  You  may  be 
sure  it  wasn't  that.  I  sent  you  because  I  thought  it  was  your 
last  chance  to  get  a  husband,  like  other  girls.  I've  been  waiting 
every  week  to  hear  that  you  were  engaged.  Every  letter  that 
came  I  thought  would  have  that  news.  My  hands  used  to  tremble 
when  I  opened  them.  I  hoped  it  was  John  Smith.  But  he  was 
clever  enough  to  see  what  kind  of  girl  you  were.  I  don't  blame 

him.  What  man  wants  to  marry  a And  now  you've  come 

back  here  to  tell  me  that  you're  going  to  bring  somebody's  bastard 
into  the  world.  I  might  have  known  this  was  the  way  you'd  turn 
out.  I  might  hare  known." 

Her  voice  had  risen  to  a  scream  and  she  beat  the  table  with 
her  fists.  Her  long  sharp  nails  had  sunk  so  deep  in  the  flesh  of 
her  clenched  hands  that  they  lay  in  little  pits  that  were  like 
yellow  wax. 

Hester  did  not  speak. 

"  You're  always  been  a  disappointment  to  me  from  the  begin 
ning.  My  first  child  and  such  a  homely  one.  I  nearly  died  of 
mortification,  until  Beatrice  came.  But  she  was  beautiful,  every 
thing  I  thought  my  child  ought  to  be.  Beatrice  never  disap 
pointed  me.  She  was  sweet  where  you  were  stupid,  beautiful 
where  you  were  ugly,  graceful  where  you  were  awkward.  Every 
body  loved  her.  Nobody  liked  you.  And  she  married  and  married 
well  and  had  a  baby  that  was  as  beautiful  as  she  was.  And  then, 

485 


436  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

when  I  was  the  happiest  woman  in  the  world,  death  took  her  and 
little  Bee.  Took  her.  Took  her.  And  left  you!  What  is  there 
in  justice  when  she  went  and  you  were  permitted  to  stay.  You — 
you — you — a " 

Mrs.  Crowell's  harangue  trailed  off  into  expletives  that  perhaps 
her  vocabulary  had  never  recognised  before. 

Hester  remained  silent.  Her  cheeks,  as  though  they  reflected 
the  livid  patches  on  her  mother's  face,  had  turned  a  violent  purple- 
pink.  Her  eyes  had  gone  dark  and  brilliant  at  the  same  time. 
But  there  was  no  sign  of  weakening  in  her  face,  only  a  tremendous 
resolution,  an  intense  watchfulness. 

"  What  in  the  name  of  God  did  you  do  it  for  ? "  her  mother 
raged  on,  her  Toice  rising  to  ragged  heights,  dropping  to  crazy 
depths.  "  If  you  were  tempted  and  fell,  why  didn't  you  get  out 
of  it,  without  letting  me  know  anything  about  it?  Are  you  such 
a  fool  as  not  to  know  that  that's  what  women  do  ? " 

"I  didn't  want  to  get  out  of  it,  mother." 

"  Why,  you — you Are  you  so  lost  to  shame  that  you I 

believe  you're  glad." 

"I'm  sorry  to  hurt  you,  mother.  This  means  terrible  suffering 
for  you.  But  I  am  glad." 

"  Oh,  my  God !  "  her  mother  groaned  again.  "  Oh,  my  God,  what 
am  I  going  to  do  ?  How  far  along  are  you  ? " 

"  Three  months." 

"  My  God !  My  God !  "  Mrs.  Crowell  beat  her  head  on  the 
table.  "  Think  of  what  Shaynef  ord  will  say.  They  all  hate  you 
and  Southward.  You've  always  acted  so  superior.  You  know 
what  Southward  is.  I'll  bet  she's  responsible  for  this,  the  little 
slut!" 

"  Southward  knows  nothing  about  it,  mother.  And  as  for 
Shayneford,  they  can  know  nothing  about  Southward  but  good,  for 
there  is  nothing  to  be  known  about  her  but  good." 

Mrs.  Crowell  stared  at  her  daughter  as  though  her  agony  had 
sunk  for  a  moment  to  a  level  so  low  as  mere  exasperation.  Then 
suddenly  she  pulled  herself  into  a  stony  inflexibility.  "  I  won't 
have  you  in  my  house.  You  can  stay  where  you  please.  But 
out  of  here  you  go.  I've  never  associated  with  your  kind  of 
woman  before  and  I'm  not  going  to  do  it  now.  I  won't  let  you 
keep  on  here  and  make  me  the  laughing-stock  of  this  town,  bring 
ing  some  man's  illegitimate  brat  into  the  world.  You  won't  be 
as  lucky  as  Pearl  or  Gert  Beebee  even.  You'll  never  marry.  No 
man  will  ever  want  you.  No,  out  you  go !  " 

"  I'm  going,  mother,"  Hester  said.    "  Of  course  I'm  going.    I 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  437 

had  no  intention  of  staying  here  when  I  came.  I  go  to-morrow  on 
the  earliest  train.  My  plans  are  all  made.  They  were  made 
down  to  the  last  detail  before  I  came  home.  At  first  I  didn't 
think  I'd  come  home  at  all.  I  thought  I'd  go  out  West  without 
letting  you  know  where  I  was,  until  I  got  there.  I  even  con 
sidered  disappearing  without  ever  letting  you  know.  But  there 
were  objections  to  all  those  plans.  The  last  was  too  cruel.  And 
the  first  was  too  difficult.  It  would  be  hard  to  keep  up  such  a 
deception  for  years  and  years.  Besides,  I've  got  to  change  my 
name.  But  my  real  reason  was  that  I  didn't  think  it  was  quite 
fair  to  you  not  to  tell  you  the  whole  truth.  I  really  didn't  want 
to  come  here.  It  would  have  been  much  easier  to  go  away  without 
doing  so.  But  I  thought  I  owed  it  to  you." 

Her  mother  glared.  "  Am  I  dreaming  ?  "  she  demanded  fiercely 
after  a  while.  "  Is  it  true  that  I'm  sitting  here  and  you're  sitting 
there  and  you're  saying  those  things  that  I  hear  you  say?  You're 
as  calm  as  though  you  were  going  to  a  picnic.  You  don't  seem 
to  realise  what  you're  doing.  Are  you  crazy?  That's  it.  You're 
crazy." 

"  No,  I'm  not  crazy,  mother.  You  know  that.  And  I  realise 
exactly  what  I'm  doing.  I've  had  three  months  to  think  this 
situation  over.  I  admit  I'm  calm.  And  I  shall  continue  to  be 
calm.  I've  wondered  as  I  sat  here  if  I  were  dreaming  too.  For  all 
my  life,  you  have  had  the  power  to  drive  me  nearly  insane,  not  I, 
you.  And  you've  exercised  that  power — ruthlessly.  But  you  can't 
do  that  any  more,  mother.  Many  a  night  I've  spent  hours  and 
hours  praying  to  God  to  give  me  the  beauty  and  charm  and  grace 
and  brilliancy  that  you  wanted  so  much.  Many  a  day  I've  spent 
hours  and  hours  wishing  I  were  dead.  For  I  never  could  please 
you,  no  matter  how  much  I  tried.  And  I  tried  with  my  whole 
heart  and  soul.  But  I  couldn't  please  you.  And,  oh,  how  I've 
sorrowed  over  that — how  I've  suffered  1  I  shall  carry  the  scars  of 
those  agonies  to  my  grave,  no  matter  how  long  I  live  or  how 
happy  my  life  may  be.  But  now  I  don't  care.  I've  something 
within  me  that  makes  me  independent  of  you  and  of  anything 
that  life  can  bring  me.  If  my  baby  only  lives  a  day,  it  will  be 
worth  while.  So,  remember,  mother,  abuse  is  useless.  You  never 
can  hurt  me  again." 

Mrs.  Crowell's  words  blocked  each  other  on  her  lips.  "You — 
you — ungrateful "  She  stumbled  to  silence. 

Hester  arose.  "  I'll  pack  to-night,"  she  said.  "  They're  coming 
for  me  and  the  two  trunks  early  to-morrow.  I  shan't  see  you  again 
because  it  will  only  upset  you." 


438  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  Be  sure  you'll  not  see  me.  I  never  want  to  lay  eyes  on  you 
again  as  long  as  I  live,"  Mrs.  Crowell  averred.  "  Never  as  long  as 
I  live."  She  repeated  her  phrase  with  a  tragic  solemnity. 

"  I  think  you  never  will  see  me  again,"  Hester  assured  her. 
"  Good-bye." 

Mrs.  Crowell  turned  away,  but  she  did  not  speak. 

"  Good-bye,  mother." 

Her  mother  neither  moved  nor  spoke. 

Hester  hesitated  an  instant,  and  it  was  the  only  hesitation  that 
had  marked  her  conduct  since  her  return.  Then  she  went  upstairs. 

She  dragged  two  big  trunks  down  from  the  garret  and  pro 
ceeded  systematically  with  the  business  of  packing.  Most  of  her 
belongings  were  in  her  own  chamber  but  she  made  a  dozen  jour 
neys  downstairs,  returning  with  her  arms  full.  Only  one  other 
sound  manifested  itself  in  the  house,  heavy  footsteps  pacing 
back  and  forth  in  Mrs.  Crowell's  room.  It  was  long  after  mid 
night  when  Hester  had  finished.  Then  before  undressing,  she 
wrote  two  letters. 

One  was  to  Hallowell,  "You'll  be  surprised,  dear  Matthew,  to 
hear  that  I  have  at  last  exploded.  When  and  where  and  how  and 
why  I  can't  tell  you.  Perhaps  I  can  some  time.  I  hope  so.  I 
thank  you  for  all  your  kindnesses  to  me." 

The  second  was  to  John,  "I've  broken  through  into  life,"  it 
began  without  salutation  of  any  sort.  "  I've  found  the  way.  And 
though  I'm  terribly  unhappy,  I'm  terribly  happy  too.  Perhaps 
I'll  let  you  know  about  it  soon.  I  will  if  I  can.  All  my  love  to 
Edith.  And  for  the  present,  good-bye." 

After  this  she  went  to  bed;  slept  deeply  until  her  alarm  clock 
awoke  her  at  six.  Then  she  arose,  bathed,  dressed;  drew  on  her 
hat  and  veil,  her  long  loose  travelling  cloak.  With  her  hand  on 
the  door,  she  stood  an  instant  and  surveyed  her  denuded  room, 
smiled  a  little,  then  closed  the  door.  She  proceeded  through  the 
narrow  upper  hall  on  tiptoe,  came  to  the  head  of  the  front  stairs. 

There  she  paused. 

Below  on  the  lower  step,  black-clad,  small  black  travelling 
satchel  in  one  hand,  Tabby's  head  protruding  from  a  bag  in  the 
other,  sat  her  mother.  She  arose  as  Hester  started  down  the 
stairs. 

"  I  hear  the  barge  coming  up  the  road  now,"  she  said.  "  I've 
been  sitting  here  for  an  hour.  I  was  afraid  it  would  be  late." 


BOOK  FOUR 


BOOK  FOUR 
CHAPTER  I 

SOUTHWARD  fell  into  a  kind  of  lethargy  after  Hester's  departure. 
For  hours  she  lay  in  the  hammock  reading,  or  worked  in  the 
garden,  or,  in  rare  fitful  bursts  of  energy,  dashed  with  the  dogs  on 
one  of  her  long  walks. 

"  What's  the  matter  with  you,  Southward  ? "  her  grandmother 
said  more  than  once,  "  you  don't  seem  to  have  any  gumption.  You 
don't  act  like  yourself." 

"  I  guess  I  went  about  too  much  last  winter  in  New  York,"  was 
Southward's  unvarying  explanation.  "  I  don't  feel  much  like  doing 
anything  but  getting  out  in  the  air." 

"  Why  don't  you  go  over  to  Oldtown  ?  I  hate  to  have  you  go, 
but  I  think  the  change  would  do  you  good.  You  always  have  such 
a  nice  time  over  there." 

"  No,  I  don't  want  to  go  anywhere,"  was  Southward's  surprising 
answer,  "  Shayneford  looks  pretty  good  to  me.  I'm  going  to  stay 
right  here." 

As  the  summer  came  on  and  she  worked  more  and  more  assidu 
ously  in  the  garden,  her  annual  coat  of  tan  manifested  itself.  It 
gave  her  a  meretricious  effect  of  blooming  health.  But  the  rose 
colour  beneath  was  not  so  high  as  formerly.  She  was  thinner 
than  usual  and  she  continued  not  to  gain  flesh.  That  thinness 
seemed  to  exaggerate  the  boyish  quality  in  her  face  and  figure. 
And  it  proved,  what  any  sculptor  would  at  any  time  have  seen, 
that  the  bony  structure  of  her  body  was  admirably  proportioned 
and  beautifully  shaped. 

Charlotte,  who  had  progressed  steadily  until  her  vision  was  as 
nearly  normal  as  it  ever  would  be,  interested  Southward  now  of 
course  as  she  had  never  interested  her  before.  She  listened  with 
the  greatest  sympathy  to  Charlotte's  vague  and  inarticulate  ex 
pressions  of  the  most  concrete  and  vivid  impressions;  the  differ 
ence  between  the  way  people  really  looked  and  her  own  pre 
conceived  blind  notions  of  them;  her  enjoyment  of  green  fields, 
bright  flowers,  sunset,  and  moonlight;  the  results  of  her  long, 
minute  examination  of  Long  Lanes  and  of  various  Shayneford 

441 


442  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

households.  Southward  had  always  been  the  bright  particular  star 
of  Charlotte's  dayless  existence;  now  she  was  the  sun  of  her  new 
world.  She  attached  herself  to  Southward  with  the  same  fidelity 
that  the  dogs  showed.  She  followed  her  about;  waited  on  her; 
tried  to  anticipate  her  wishes.  Often  in  an  unconseious  exercise 
of  her  regained  power,  she  stared  dumbly  for  long  periods  into 
Southward's  face,  as  though  trying  to  find  there  the  answer  to  an 
unformulated  question. 

For  the  most  part  though,  Southward  kept  to  the  house.  She 
had  no  real  intimacies  in  Shayneford  and,  now  that  Hester  was 
gone,  she  lived  in  the  midst  of  a  self-imposed  outcastdom.  She 
went  for  regular  intervals  to  borrow  books  of  Matthew  Hallowell. 
Occasionally  she  called  on  Gert  Beebee. 

Gert  was  very  happy.  Welch  was  proud  of  his  wife  and  prouder 
still  of  his  son.  And  indeed  he  might  well  be  proud  of  that  young 
person. 

"  My  goodness,  Gert,"  Southward  had  said  on  her  first  return 
from  New  York,  "  I  never  saw  such  a  gigantic  baby  in  my  life. 
What  do  you  feed  him  on — roast  beef  ?  " 

"  That's  what  Buster  says,"  Gert  asserted  proudly.  "  He  says 
he's  going  to  be  a  champion  heavyweight.  I  want  you  to  come 
over  here,  Southward,  the  next  time  Buster  gets  back.  I've  told 
him  a  lot  about  you.  He  wants  to  meet  you." 

Southward  promised  to  do  this  readily  enough;  and  in  the' 
meantime  she  surveyed  with  a  great  deal  of  interest  the  improve 
ments  which  Buster  Welch's  prosperity  had  effected.  In  the 
biggest  chamber,  a  huge  brass  bed  had  relegated  to  the  attic  Gert's 
little  old  painted  wooden  one.  A  big  modern  dresser,  its  broad 
top  covered  with  glass,  took  the  place  of  the  beautiful  inlaid 
Sheraton  piece  which  Mrs.  Boardman  had  wiled  away  from  her. 
This  was  covered  with  a  toilet-set,  in  a  highly  embossed  and 
elaborately  monogrammed  silver.  The  parlour  showed  a  big 
rug;  new,  shiny,  and  massive  mahogany  furniture;  a  tall  lamp 
which  stood  on  the  floor;  one  huge  India-ink  portrait  with  an 
ornate  gold  frame  of  Buster  Welch  in  ring  costume ;  and  several 
photographs,  flashed  at  the  ringside  by  newspaper  photographers — 
one  of  the  knock-out  that  gave  him  the  championship  and  the 
others  presenting  Welch  as  he  shook  hands  with  various  antag 
onists.  In  the  corner  cabinet  was  a  display  of  worn  and  stained 
boxing-gloves.  Evidently  Mr.  Welch  overrated  his  size,  for  in 
every  room  was  at  least  one  chair  built  to  accommodate  a  heavy 
weight.  The  piazza,  displayed  two  hammocks,  held  up  by  iron 
chains,  which  would  have  sustained  the  weight  of  a  giant. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  443 

"  Well,  you  certainly  are  prosperous-looking,  Gert,"  Southward 
commented  with  a  faint  hint  of  her  old-time  glimmer. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  Qert  agreed  promptly.  "  I  didn't  know  there  was  as 
much  money  in  the  world  as  Buster  makes.  We're  salting  most  of 
it  down  though.  We  want  the  baby  to  have  a  college  education. 
And  Buster  says  he'd  like  to  have  a  fruit  orchard  in  California." 

"  Hope  he  gets  it,"  Southward  said.  "  How  did  the  old  cats 
take  it,  Gert,  when  you  and  Mr.  Welch  got  married  ?  " 

"  Oh,  land,  you  ought  to  have  been  here.  It  was  as  good  as  a 
circus.  This  town  was  like  a  hornet's  nest.  The  things  they 
said !  Well,  what  they  didn't  suspect  they  made  up.  Of  course 
they'd  thought  everybody  was  the  father  of  that  child  but  Buster. 
Sarah  Wallis — of  course  she  was  the  worst — you  know  what  she's 
like.  She  beat  it  right  up  here  as  soon  as  she  could  get  away 
from  her  housework  and  asked  me  a  million  questions.  But  I 
made  short  work  of  her.  I  guess  she  was  sorry  though ;  for,  three 
weeks  later,  up  she  comes  with  a  half-dozen  towels  that  she'd 
embroidered  with  my  initials — handsome  they  were  too.  You 
know  what  beautiful  work  she  does.  I  keep  them  for  best.  I'll 
show  them  to  you.  They're  upstairs  in  the  high-boy." 

"Don't  sell  that  old  high-boy,  Gert,"  Southward  warned  her. 
"  It's  a  good  one  and  now  you've  got  a  son,  you  want  to  save  all 
your  family  pieces  to  hand  down  to  him." 

"  You  bet  I  won't  sell  it,"  Gert  vowed.  "  I'm  sorry  I  sold  that 
Mrs.  Boardman  my  bureau.  I  didn't  have  to  either,  and  I  don't 
know  how  she  got  round  me.  Yes,  I  do  too.  She  told  me  a  lot 
of  things  I  could  get  for  Junior  with  the  money  and  she  even 
offered  to  buy  them  for  me  in  New  York  and  send  them  on.  Of 
course  like  a  fool,  I  fell  for  that.  I  wish  I  had  it  back  now." 

"  I  saw  it  in  Mrs.  Boardman's  shop,"  Southward  said.  "  It  made 
a  stunning  piece,  all  polished  up." 

In  the  course  of  the  summer  Southward  met  Buster  Welch. 
He  proved  to  be  all  that  the  sporting-page  predicted  of  him,  a 
big  husky  hulk  of  muscular  flesh.  His  humorous  remarks  on  his 
own  professional  experiences  were  a  regularly  accepted  feature  of 
sporting  news.  And  after  talking  with  him,  Southward  announced 
to  her  family  that  she  believed  he  really  had  said  most  of  them. 
He  was  a  combination,  apparently,  of  his  Yankee  mother's  dry  wit 
and  his  Irish  father's  unctuous  humour.  It  was  perfectly  obrious 
that  he  liked  Southward,  whom  he  treated  with  a  rast  and  pro 
found  respect.  Southward  displayed  the  interest  in  him  that  with 
her  always  came  to  the  surface  for  definite  character  and  concrete 
experience.  They  discussed  his  professional  encounters  with  an 


444  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

acumen  which  Gert  did  not  pretend  to  entertain.  This  was  a 
high  light  in  Southward's  strange  summer. 

The  announcement  of  Pearl  Manning's  sudden  marriage  to 
Lysander  had  made  a  sensation  in  Shayneford  which  entirely 
blanketed  the  echoes  of  the  gossip  about  Gert.  Everybody  asked 
why  the  secrecy  and  why  the  haste.  The  reason  soon  became 
apparent  and  the  village  talk,  which  spared  nobody,  spared  at  this 
juncture  neither  Pearl  nor  her  mother.  Pearl  kept  much  to  her 
self.  But  Mrs.  Wallis  made  no  change  in  her  village  activities. 
There  were  black  circles  under  her  eyes  but  she  held  her  head  as 
high  as  ever.  If  those  who  in  the  past  had  suffered  by  her 
malicious  talk  were  inclined  to  triumph  and  exult,  they  did  it 
secretly.  When  she  appeared  in  village  society,  it  was,  however, 
to  plunge  into  a  little  interval  of  significant  silence.  The  instant 
Sue-Salome  brought  the  official  news  of  the  marriage  to  Long 
Lanes,  Southward  ordered  a  wedding-present  from  Boston;  knives, 
forks,  spoons.  She  sent  them  by  her  grandfather  to  Pearl  and  the 
next  day  she  went  to  call. 

It  was  late  in  the  afternoon,  a  soft  spring  day.  The  Manning 
house  was  a  semi-modern  one  on  the  outskirts  of  the  town.  Parts 
of  its  old-time  structure  had  been  refurbished  by  the  addition  of 
a  pair  of  modern  bay-windows  and  a  wide  piazza.  As  Southward 
came  down  the  road,  two  figures,  one  that  had  been  lying  in  the 
hammock,  the  other  sitting  in  a  chair  beside  it,  arose  and  vanished 
in  the  house.  When  Southward  rang  the  bell  beside  the  modem 
brown-grained,  painted  door  which  held  a  big  rectangular  plate  of 
frosted  glass,  one  of  those  figures  opened  the  door.  It  was  Pearl. 

Pearl  wore  a  long  loose  robe  of  pink  canton  flannel,  trimmed 
at  the  neck  and  sleeves  with  lace.  The  high,  patchy  pink  colour 
which  ordinarily  characterised  her  had  disappeared.  She  looked 
leaden.  The  circles  under  her  eyes  were  more  like  bruises  than 
shadows. 

"  How  do  you  do,  Pearl  ? "  Southward  greeted  her  briskly.  "  I 
was  going  by  so  I  thought  I'd  step  in." 

"  It's  very  kind  of  you,"  Pearl  answered  civilly.    "  Come  in." 

She  led  the  way  into  the  front  room,  a  little  crowded  with  what 
was  apparently  a  combination  of  the  old  things  Lysander  had 
inherited  from  his  mother  and  the  new  things  he  had  bought  for 
his  wife.  The  old  furniture  was  ugly,  puffy,  but  comfortable; 
the  new  shiny,  glaring,  and  futile.  "  I  was  just  going  to  write 
you  a  note,  thanking  you  for  the  silver.  It  is  very  handsome 
indeed.  It  was  kind  of  you  to  send  it."  She  went  to  the  door 
and  called,  "  Mother !  Mother !  It's  Southward." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  445 

Mrs.  Wallis  glided  smoothly  into  the  room.  "  How  do  you  do, 
Southward?  How's  everybody  up  at  your  house?  Charlotte  doing 
as  well  as  usual  ?  " 

"  Yes,  everybody's  all  right  up  there,"  Southward  answered. 
"  And  Charlotte  is  doing  wonderfully." 

"  It  was  awful  kind  of  you,  Southward,  to  do  what  you  did 
for  Charlotte,"  Mrs.  Wallis  said,  a  faint  tinge  of  warmth  in  her 
lack-lustre  tone.  "  I  don't  suppose  anybody  but  you  would  have 
had  the  courage  to  try  it.  But  just  see  how  fortunate  it's  turned 
out.  Charlotte's  life  has  been  made  over,  as  you  might  say." 

"  It  did  take  some  courage,"  Southward  replied.  "  More  than 
at  the  time  I  would  admit  to  myself.  Of  course  I  don't  think  of 
that  now,  when  it's  come  out  so  well.  But  anybody  would  have 
done  what  I  did." 

"  I  was  just  telling  Southward,  mother,"  Pearl  struck  in,  "  how 
pleased  Ly  and  I  were  with  the  silver." 

"  Yes,  it  is  very  handsome,"  Mrs.  Wallis  agreed.  "  And  heavy ! 
The  prettiest  pattern  I  ever  saw.  I  suppose  you'll  be  getting  mar 
ried  yourself  one  of  these  days,  Southward." 

"  Doesn't  look  much  like  it  now,"  Southward  confessed  with 
lightness,  "  does  it  ?  No,  I'll  be  the  village  old  maid,  I  expect." 

Southward  stayed  a  civil  half-hour,  but  it  was  an  embarrassing 
session.  Conversation  languished  at  intervals  and  then  broke  into 
little  spurts  of  laboured  activity  in  which  everybody  talked  at  once. 

When  she  left,  Pearl  said,  "  I'm  not  making  any  calls  these 
days,  Southward,  but  I'm  coming  to  see  you  as  soon  as  I  can." 

Southward  responded  that  she  hoped  she  would.  But  Pearl  did 
not  come  to  call.  Lysander  had  vanished  as  completely  from 
Southward's  horoscope  as  though  he  had  left  town.  The  only 
news  Southward  received  was  what  Charlotte  or  the  Hatch  sisters 
brought  her.  Southward  grew  more  and  more  into  the  habit  of 
confining  her  pedestrian  activities  to  the  woody  neighbourhood 
and  to  the  lonely  roads  about  Long  Lanes. 

June  melted  insensibly  into  July.  The  regular  powdering  of 
summer  people  had  begun  to  make  a  white  fluffiness  in  the  Shayne- 
ford  streets.  Hester  appeared  for  her  brief  visit  and  vanished 
into  the  unknown.  July  lapsed  into  August.  The  town  began  to 
sizzle  with  mid-summer  activity.  Picnics  in  the  woods,  picnics 
on  the  beach,  walking  parties,  strawberry  festivals,  hay-rack  rides, 
clambakes,  concerts,  bazaars,  excursions  to  neighbouring  towns — 
Southward  entered  into  none  of  them.  One  day  grew  more  like 
the  next  as  the  weeks  went  by  until,  finally,  her  life  fell  into  a 
system :  the  same  early  hour  for  rising,  the  same  morning  hours  for 


446  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

work  in  her  garden  and  the  swim  afterwards,  the  same  afternoon 
hours  for  walking  with  the  dogs;  the  same  evening  hours  for 
reading;  the  same  late  hour  for  going  to  bed.  Nowadays  she  slept 
permanently  downstairs  in  a  room  of  the  main  house.  She  had 
not  been  to  the  garret  since  the  night  Hester  said  good-bye  to 
her  there. 
And  then  suddenly  into  this  dull  calm  broke  tragedy. 


CHAPTER  II 

EARLY  one  morning,  Southward  was  awakened  by  her  grand 
father's  voice. 

"  Southward !  Southward !  "  he  called  in  high  cracked  tones 
that  had  a  note,  strangely  querulous,  of  terror.  "  There's  some 
thing  the  matter  with  your  grandmother.  I  can't  wake  her  up." 

Southward  leaped  out  of  bed  and  in  her  nightgown  ran  through 
the  hall,  through  the  dining-room,  into  Mrs.  Drake's  chamber. 

Her  grandmother  lay  propped  high  among  the  pillows  as  usual. 
But  her  head  had  turned  to  one  side;  it  drooped.  Her  eyelids 
were  down,  but  only  a  little.  She  seemed  to  contemplate  with  a 
fixed  insistent  inquisitiveness,  that  had  a  touch  of  something 
sinister,  a  point  where  wall  met  floor.  She  was  the  colour  of 
marble — face,  neck,  arms,  and  long-nailed  hands  that  lay  on  the 
spread — all  except  the  set  immovable  irises  of  her  grey  eyes  and 
the  huge  masses  of  her  yellow  hair.  That  hair,  indeed,  pulling 
out  from  the  braids  in  which  it  ended,  into  long  tangles  about  the 
brow,  gave  her  a  curious  effect  of  maidenhood. 

"  Grandmother!  Grandmother!  "  Southward  called.  "  Oh,  speak 
to  me!  What  is  it?  Oh,  speak  to  me,  grandmother!  " 

She  drew  apart  the  edges  of  the  short  shabby  kimono  which  at 
night  Mrs.  Drake  wore  over  her  nightgown,  put  her  ear  over  her 
heart.  When  she  raised  her  face,  it  had  a  stricken  look. 

"  Call  Dr.  Simpson  on  the  telephone,  grandfather.  Quick ! 
Quick !  Charlotte !  Charlotte !  " 

Charlotte  appeared  witch-like  in  a  plain  cotton  nightgown 
which  came,  without  trimming,  close  up  to  her  scrawny  throat 
and  close  down  on  her  flat  wrists,  her  long  heavy  hair,  black, 
broken  by  great  dashes  of  grey,  hanging  to  her  waist. 

"  Fill  the  hot-water  bottle,  Charlotte !     I'll  get  the  whiskey." 

Mr.  Drake  hobbled  to  the  telephone.  Charlotte  sprang  to  the 
stove.  Southward  rushed  to  the  sideboard.  But  on  her  way  back, 
Southward  seized  a  hand-glass  from  the  bureau.  She  placed  it  at 
Mrs.  Drake's  lips.  The  surface  of  the  mirror  remained  undimmed. 

Before  the  doctor  arrived  they  had  banked  hot-water  bags  and 
bottles  about  the  marble  figure;  they  had  managed  to  pour 
whiskey  between  the  set  teeth.  But  all  three  worked  with  an 
appearance  of  growing  despair  rather  than  of  hope. 

447 


448  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Dr.  Simpson  drew  a  stethoscope  from  his  bag.  Southward, 
without  direction,  opened  the  kimono.  Dr.  Simpson,  first  lifting 
the  half -opened  eyelids,  applied  the  receiver.  He  listened  a  full 
half-minute,  during  which  the  only  external  sounds  to  distract  his 
intent  listening  for  that  little  significant  sound  within  were  the 
intense  breathing  of  Southward  and  her  grandfather,  and  a  sup 
pressed  sob  from  Charlotte.  He  straightened  up  finally,  faced 
Nathaniel  Drake,  seemed  to  hesitate,  and  then  shook  his  head. 

"  She's  been  dead  three  or  four  hours,  Nat.  It's  too  bad  it  came 
like  this.  But  I  told  you,  you  must  be  prepared  for  it  any  time. 
She  didn't  suffer  a  particle — went  off  between  two  breaths." 

Charlotte  burst  into  hysterical  weeping.  It  was  evident  that 
Mr.  Drake  had  to  make  an  effort  not  to  join  her.  Southward 
alone  maintained  complete  command  of  herself.  She  grew  white 
though,  and  she  kept  both  that  pallor  and  that  command  during 
the  long,  weary,  dreary  two  days  which  preceded  the  funeral.  Mr. 
Drake  proved  in  this  emergency  as  helpless  as  most  men  in  the 
face  of  birth  or  death.  Southward  had  to  take  complete  charge 
of  the  situation.  Most  of  the  neighbours  offered  help;  among 
them  Mrs.  Wallis,  who  came  immediately.  But  she  turned  them 
all  politely  away,  except  Sue-Salome  and  Libbie,  who  insisted  on 
taking  turns  in  sitting  up  with  the  body. 

The  funeral  was  held  at  home,  and  for  that  purpose  Southward 
opened  the  big  lower  rooms  in  the  main  house.  She  and  Charlotte 
smothered  the  coffin  in  the  flowers  which  the  neighbours  sent  and 
the  prodigal  blooms  from  her  own  garden.  There  was  no  sign 
of  the  sinister  black  box,  except  as  it  managed  to  maintain  its 
shape  through  this  welter  of  blossoms.  Perhaps  the  news  got 
about  that  Long  Lanes  was  for  the  first  time  in  many  years  to 
be  opened.  And  possibly  to  some  degree  curiosity  actuated  a  pro 
portion  of  the  attendance.  At  any  rate,  the  lower  rooms,  the  halls, 
stairs,  and  doorway  were  filled  with  people,  some  of  whom  were 
summer  guests.  Long  Lanes  presented  a  strange  spectacle  that 
day,  a  curious  contrast  to  its  normal  air,  solitary  and  poignant, 
of  a  beautiful  high-bred  decay.  Both  lanes  leading  to  the  house 
were  filled  with  motors  and  carriages.  And  the  constant  arrival 
of  groups  of  people,  soberly  clad,  seemed  to  add  an  extra  gorgeous- 
ness  to  Southward's  garden,  blazing  with  every  mad  colour  at 
one  side,  and  an  extra  gloom  to  the  old  orchard,  submerged  in 
a  perpetual  chrysophrase  twilight,  on  the  other. 

After  the  funeral,  life  closed  over  this  gap  in  the  family  life; 
it  flowed  on  with  the  same  unimpeded  sluggishness.  Charlotte 
mourned  so  deeply  that  for  a  week  or  two  Southward  set  herself 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  449 

entirely  to  the  business  of  consoling  and  entertaining  her.  But 
as  her  efforts  bore  fruit  in  Charlotte's  improved  spirits,  she  herself 
seemed  to  fall  into  a  lassitude  deeper  than  before.  Mr.  Drake,  on 
the  other  hand,  became  with  every  day  more  and  more  restless. 
All  his  old-time  pottering  diversions  in  barn  and  house,  over  live 
stock  and  vegetable  garden,  decaying  orchard  and  encroaching 
forest,  seemed  of  no  avail  now.  He  wandered  dismally  from  room 
to  room  looking  out  on  the  prospect  as  though  it  were  at  the 
same  time  quite  new  and  unutterably  dull. 

"  Land,  how  I  miss  Lorenza !  "  he  said.  "  Who'd  have  thought 
a  woman  bedridden  like  that  would  have  made  such  a  hole  when 
she  left?" 

And,  indeed,  as  Southward  observed  many  times  to  sympathising 
callers,  they  had  never  quite  realised  how  definite  and  necessary 
a  part  of  their  family  happiness  was  Mrs.  Drake's  uncomplaining 
patience,  her  cheerful  interest  in  everybody. 

One  night  after  his  wife  had  been  dead  about  a  month,  Mr. 
Drake  came  into  Southward's  room  just  as  she  was  getting  ready 
to  go  to  bed. 

"  Southward,"  he  said,  "  I  think  I'll  go  away  for  a  while.  I 
miss  Lora  so  I  ain't  no  good  to  myself  nor  nobody.  I  haven't 
got  any  sprawl  left  and  no  appetite  at  all.  I  feel  fidgety  all  the 
time.  And  I  guess  the  ticket  for  me  is  to  go  off  somewhere  on 
a  voyage.  I've  always  said  I'd  like  to  go  into  the  Circle  again. 
I  think  I'll  go  out  to  Frisco  for  a  look-see  up  Alaska  way.  And 
perhaps  I'll  get  a  chance  there.  You  wouldn't  mind  being  left 
here  alone  with  Charlotte,  would  you,  if  I  got  Mannie  Higgins 
to  come  up  and  look  after  the  animals?  I'll  leave  enough  money 
in  the  bank  for  you  to  live  on  while  I'm  gone." 

"  No,  Cap'n,"  Southward  said.  "  I  wouldn't  mind  it  at  all.  I 
think  it  will  do  you  a  lot  of  good  to  get  off  somewhere  for  a  while. 
I  don't  blame  you  at  all  for  wanting  to  go  into  the  Circle,  and  if 
you  had  only  made  it  the  wilds  of  Africa,  I'd  go  with  you.  But 
I've  made  a  vow  never  to  live  in  a  colder  place  than  Shayneford. 
Charlotte  and  I  will  get  along  all  right.  Only  you  must  remember 
one  thing.  Put  a  card  in  among  your  papers  saying  that  if  you 
fall  ill  anywhere,  I'm  to  be  sent  for  at  once.  You  promise  me 
that?" 

"  Yes,  I  promise."  Mr.  Drake  was  obviously  relieved  that  his 
plans  were  receiving  so  little  opposition. 

His  spirits  continued  to  rise  during  his  ten  days  of  preparation; 
and  when  he  left  he  was  in  a  real  fever  of  impatience  and  antici 
pation. 


450  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  Lord,  you'd  think  this  was  my  first  voyage,"  he  growled  again 
and  again  in  gruff  deprecation  of  his  own  impatience. 

After  he  had  gone,  Southward  seemed  more  quiet  than  before. 
But  one  day  she  came  down  to  breakfast  with  something  new  in 
her  aspect. 

"  Say,  Charlotte,"  she  said,  "  there's  one  thing  I've  been  thinking 
for  a  long  time  I'd  like  to  do.  It  will  be  hard  work  but  I  can  do 
it  if  you'll  help  me.  I'd  like  to  fix  this  house  up  the  way  it  used 
to  be  before  grandfather  married  grandmother.  I  mean — bring 
down  all  the  stuff  that's  in  the  garret  and  the  upstairs 
rooms  and  put  grandmother's  stuff  up  there  in  its  place.  Of 
course  I  loved  grandmother.  But  I  hate  all  that  truck  that  she 
was  so  fond  of.  When  I  was  in  New  York,  I  got  a  lot  of  points 
from  an  old  Frenchman  Mrs.  Boardman  hired,  about  putting 
antique  furniture  into  condition.  I'd  love  to  tackle  some  of  our 
old  pieces,  and  see  what  I  could  do  with  them.  I  couldn't  do  it 
alone  in  six  months.  But  with  your  help,  it  wouldn't  take  many 
weeks.  And  then  we'll  move  into  the  main  house  and  live  there. 
We'll  fix  the  ell  up  into  a  summer  kitchen  and  breakfast-room — 
the  way  the  Drakes  always  had  it." 

"I'd  love  to  do  it,"  Charlotte  declared,  "just  love  it.  Oh,  to 
think  I've  got  my  eyesight  back  and  can  see  Long  Lanes  looking 
the  way  it  used  to  be !  Why,  all  my  life  I've  heard  my  mother  tell 
how  beautiful  it  was." 

"  I'll  have  to  have  more  help  at  first,"  Southward  explained. 
"  IT;  will  take  two  men  at  least  to  lug  the  stuff  down  from  the 
garret  and  to  carry  the  things  in  the  ell  up  there.  I  think  we'd 
better  ask  Sue-Salome  to  come  and  stay  a  week  with  us.  There 
are  all  kinds  of  little  odd  jobs  she  can  do." 

Once  she  had  started,  Southward  displayed  an  activity  almost 
as  intense  as  her  former  lassitude.  She  carried  her  plan  through 
with  her  customary  efficiency  and  almost  her  usual  speed.  One  day 
they  lived  through  household  revolution,  furniture  coming  down 
stairs,  furniture  going  upstairs.  All  the  monstrosities  of  Mrs. 
Drake's  taste  disappeared  in  the  garret;  the  cheap  modern  oak, 
the  haircloth  and  black  walnut,  the  painted  knick-knacks,  the 
faded  tidies,  picture-drapes,  chair-throws,  lambrequins;  the  bric-a- 
brac  of  gilt,  ribbon,  and  plush ;  the  high-coloured  chromo  pictures, 
the  hueless  modern  china,  the  featureless  cut  glass.  Often  at  night 
Southward  amused  herself  making  plans  of  the  rooms  of  the 
main  house,  choosing  the  spots  where  the  beautiful  Lares  and 
Penates  banished  for  so  many  years  should  finally  be  placed. 

After    all,    not    so    many    pieces    of    their    old    mahogany, 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  451 

walnut,  and  maple  needed  to  be  done  over.  For,  previous  to  the 
advent  of  the  second  Mrs.  Drake,  the  family  had  held  its  colonial 
treasures  in  high  esteem;  had  treated  them  with  a  proper  defer 
ence.  But  Southward  used  any  blemish — one  spot,  a  single  ring 
made  by  a  wet  glass  carelessly  placed — as  an  excuse  for  rehabilita 
tion.  She  worked  all  day,  worked  with  an  unending  energy  and 
a  resistless  persistence,  worked  with  a  patience  and  perseverance 
that  she  had  never  before  brought  to  anything  practical.  She 
discovered  that  Libbie  Hatch  had  a  fair  knack  for  upholstery  and 
she  sent  to  Boston  for  samples  of  chintz. 

"  Most  of  the  old  upholstery  is  too  faded  and  dirty  to  be 
pretty,"  she  explained  to  Charlotte.  "  We'll  have  every  room 
done  in  a  different  pattern." 

Charlotte  enjoyed  this  more  than  Southward,  with  whom  it  was 
palpably  only  one  method  of  marking  time.  Perhaps  much  of 
her  excitement  came  from  the  exercise  of  her  restored  vision  on 
all  these  things,  especially  the  chintzes.  "  I  think  I'll  take  the 
pink  for  my  room,  Southward,"  she  announced,  "  as  long  as  you 
don't  want  it  yourself.  How  I  shall  admire  to  wake  up  in  the 
morning  and  look  at  those  beautiful  roses ! " 

"  I  wish  Hester  were  here !  "  Southward  said  again  and  again. 
"  Often  we  used  to  plan  together  how  we  would  fix  Long  Lanes 
if  we  ever  got  a  chance.  I'd  like  Hester's  advice  too.  She  has 
always  had  so  much  more  sense  of  the  artistic  than  I  have." 

The  work  proceeded  apace.  Gradually  the  big  main  house  took 
on  its  old  look.  The  old  floors,  freshly  waxed,  showed  in  the  lower 
rooms  the  complication  of  elaborate  marquetry,  elsewhere  the  sim 
plicity  of  plain  hard  wood  or  painted  floors.  The  old  pieces, 
scraped,  waxed,  their  inlay  revived,  their  brasses  polished,  showed 
to  the  best  advantage  against  high  wide  wall  spaces.  Old  candle 
sticks  reappeared  from  unused  closets;  old  crystal  lamps,  old 
astral  lamps.  Samplers,  silhouettes,  engravings,  paintings  gained 
a  new  authority  from  cleanliness  and  advantageous  positions 
among  contemporary  furnishings.  And  over  everything — in  jades, 
crystals,  teak,  carved  ivory,  ermdal-wood,  strange  prints,  faded  em 
broideries — ran  the  trail  of  the  Orient.  The  dining-room,  with 
the  noble  old  sideboard  brought  down  from  the  garret,  displaying 
rare  Lowestoft,  the  corner  cabinets  filled  with  old  glass,  china, 
and  pewter,  the  big  central-table  and  the  dozen  Hepplewhite  chairs 
collected  from  all  over  the  house,  seemed  to  hold  the  very  essence 
of  a  chaste  old-time  elegance. 

The  fresh  modern  chintzes  gave  the  rooms  the  accent  they 
needed.  And  re-enforcing  them,  from  every  table,  wide,  low  bowls 


452  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

or  tall  slim  vases  of  flowers  made  spots  of  dazzling  colour.  At 
night  the  soft  lustre  of  the  lamps  and  the  softer  lustre  of  the 
candlesticks  merged  shining  old  wood,  faded  old  paper,  crisp  mod 
ern  chintz,  and  brilliant  garden-bloom  into  a  perfected  whole.  The 
stark  old  family  portraits  gazed  down  on  a  Long  Lanes  that  they 
had  not  seen  for  a  generation. 

As  quietly  as  July  had  come  and  gone,  August  came  and  went. 
One  night,  Southward  was  waked  long  after  midnight  by  a  frantic 
pounding  on  the  front  door.  She  rushed  to  her  window. 

"Who  is  it?"  she  called. 

"  It's  Lysander,"  Lysander's  voice  answered.  "  Will  you  come 
over  to  the  house,  Southward?  Pearl's  sick  and  her  mother  feels 
that  she  may  need  help.  Something's  happened  to  the  telephone 
and  I've  got  to  get  the  doctor.  I  may  find  him  out  on  a  call  and 
I  don't  want  to  leave  the  two  women  too  long  alone  there." 

"  All  right,  Ly.  I'll  jump  on  my  wheel  and  be  there  in  five 
minutes.  You  go  right  on." 

She  heard  the  sounds  of  Lysander's  buggy  wheels  retreating  as 
she  flew  about.  She  stopped  only  to  put  on  a  skirt  and  sweatei 
over  her  nightgown,  to  throw  on  a  long  coat.  She  did  not  wake 
Charlotte,  whose  deep  breathing  persisted  through  all  this  dis 
turbance.  She  jumped  onto  her  bicycle,  found  one  of  the  ruts  in 
the  lane,  and  sped  through  a  glory  of  checkered  light  and  shade 
which  the  old  moon  produced  in  conjunction  with  the  trees. 
Every  room  in  the  Manning  place  \\;,^  ablaze.  She  knocked  at 
the  door;  and  finding  that  the  latch  gave  to  her  touch,  opened  it 
and  ran  swiftly  upstairs.  Pearl  was  sitting  up  in  bed.  All  her 
high  colour,  unnaturally  increased  by  child-!  irth  strain,  had  come 
back,  flooding  her  face  with  bloom.  Her  two  dark  braids  ran 
down,  one  on  either  side  of  her  face.  Wisps  c-i  hair  lay  plastered 
against  her  damp  forehead.  Mrs.  Wallis,  a  lo:,g  dark  kimono  over 
her  nightgown,  her  hair  screwed  into  a  little  round  tight  knot  on 
the  top  of  her  head,  turned  a  white  face  towards  the  door. 

"  The  baby's  here,  Southward,"  she  remarked  evenly.  "  I'm  glad 
you  came.  I  need  a  little  help." 

"Do  you  know  what  to  do,  mother?"  Pearl  asked  in  a  voice, 
equally  composed.  "  You  must  save  oiy  baby." 

"  I  know  just  what  to  do,  dearie,"  Mrs.  Wallis  said  tenderly. 
"  I'll  save  her.  Come  right  here,  Southward." 

Southward  threw  off  her  coat;  hurried  over  to  the  bed. 

Mrs.  Wallis  gave  detailed  directions.  Her  voice  was  low. 
Her  glance  re-enforced  the  quiet  command  of  her  words.  South- 


453 

ward  obeyed  that  command  without  a  word.  Pearl  with  a  strange 
impersonal  air  intently  watched  the  proceedings. 

After  a  while,  Mrs.  Wallis  wrapped  the  baby  in  a  blanket  and 
put  it  on  the  bed.  "  Now,  lie  down,  dearie,"  she  ordered,  easing 
her  daughter's  slow  incline  with  what  seemed  a  gigantic  strength 
and  a  monumental  gentleness. 

"  My  baby?  "  Pearl  questioned. 

"  The  baby's  all  right,  dear,"  Mrs.  Wallis  reassured  her.  Pearl 
closed  her  eyes.  Nobody  spoke.  A  silent  interval  they  stayed, 
Pearl  flat  on  the  bed,  Mrs.  Wallis  standing  beside  her,  Southward 
at  the  footboard. 

"  There  comes  the  doctor  now,"  Mrs.  Wallis  said.  Apparently 
no  sound  broke  the  still  air  and  yet  insensibly  the  buzz  of  a 
distant  motor  manifested  itself,  grew  into  a  roar.  It  stopped 
and  there  came  up  the  walk  across  the  piazza  and  over  the  stairs 
quick  footsteps.  Dr.  Simpson  and  Lysander  entered. 

"  I'm  glad  you've  come,  doctor."  Mrs.  Wallis  marvellously 
smiled.  The  doctor  leaned  over  Pearl.  "  She's  all  right,"  he  said. 
"  Perfectly  normal.  Doesn't  need  me  at  all."  He  took  up  the 
blanketed  bundle  on  the  bed,  performed  some  mysterious  offices. 
"  I  couldn't  have  done  any  better  myself,  ladies,"  he  acknowledged. 
He  seized  the  little  creature  by  its  two  feet,  swung  it  through 
the  air,  and  suddenly  administered  a  swift  brisk  spank.  His 
victim  responded  with  a  wail  of  indignant  protest. 

"  It's  alive,"  Southward  exclaimed  in  amazement. 

"  Very  much  so,"  the  doctor  said.  "  Now,  Southward,  you  take 
the  baby  and  give  it  a  bath."  He  handed  the  blanketed  parcel 
over  to  Southward.  "  I'll  want  Mrs.  Wallis  here  for  a  few 
minutes." 

"  There's  a  kittle  full  of  water  on  the  stove,  Southward," 
Mrs.  Wallis  informed  her  briefly.  "  Don't  get  the  water  too 
hot." 

Southward  pulled  the  blanket  closer  about  the  baby.  As  she 
left  the  room,  Lysander  was  still  bending  over  his  wife.  Appar 
ently  he  had  not  noticed  that  Southward  was  there. 

Southward  found  a  big  china  bowl;  poured  hot  water  into  it; 
tested  the  temperature  carefully;  washed  the  baby.  It  cried  dis 
piritedly  at  first.  Then  apparently  it  began  to  accommodate  itself 
to  an  extraordinary  world.  Southward  dried  it  carefully,  wrapped 
it  again  in  the  soft  old  blanket.  She  held  it  in  her  arms;  its 
face  against  hers,  listening  to  its  soft  peeps  of  comfort  and  its 
faint  grunts  of  disapproval.  Once  she  looked  closely  into  its 


454  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

vague  eyes.  When  Mrs.  Wallis  came  onto  the  scene  half  an  hour 
later,  the  baby  was  sleeping  and  Southward,  rocking  it  softly, 
was  almost  sleeping  herself.  Mrs.  Wallis  took  the  child  from  her; 
performed  some  further  ablutions;  deposited  it  in  the  cradle.  She 
worked  quietly  and  sure-handedly ;  yet  when  she  sat  down  the 
tears  were  pouring  down  her  cheeks. 

"  Southward,  you  don't  know  what  I've  been  through,"  she  said, 
gasping  out  her  words.  "  I  told  Pearl  I  knew  what  to  do,  but  I 
wasn't  sure.  I've  had  children  of  my  own  but  I  never  saw  one 
born.  I  knew  something  had  to  be  done  quick  but  I  just  guessed. 
I  had  to  take  a  chance  and  I  took  it.  But  if  anything  had  hap 
pened  to  Pearl  or  the  baby '  She  strangled  with  sobs. 

Southward  tried  to  calm  her.  Lysander  appeared.  He  came 
over  to  his  mother-in-law's  side,  patted  her  shoulder.  His  own 
eyes  were  red.  He  did  not  seem  to  see  Southward.  "  She's  all 
right,  mother.  The  doctor  says  she's  in  fine  shape.  She's  sleeping 
now  and  there's  no  reason  why  everything  shouldn't  be  plain 
sailing." 

Mrs.  Wallis  took  Lysander's  hand  and  clung  to  it.  But  she 
controlled  herself  in  another  minute.  "  Don't  you  want  to  see 
your  little  daughter,  Lysander?" 

"Sure.    Is  it  a  girl?" 

Mrs.  Wallis  lifted  the  little  bundle  from  the  cradle,  handed  it 
to  him.  She  pulled  the  folds  away  from  the  tiny  crumpled  purple 
face.  Lysander  stared  hard  at  his  offspring. 

"She's  a  fine  little  girl,  isn't  she?"  he  commented.  Then  ap 
parently  his  mental  vision  went  elsewhere.  "  It's  all  right  for 
Pearl  to  sleep  like  this,  isn't  it,  mother  ?  " 

"  Oh,  of  course,"  Mrs.  Wallis  answered.  "  The  more  sleep  the 
better  of  course.  We  can't  be  too  grateful  to  Southward,  Ly. 
I  don't  know  what  we  should  have  done  without  her  here." 

Lysander  seemed  for  the  first  time  to  take  cognisance  of  South 
ward's  presence.  "  Yes,  it  was  mighty  good  of  you,  Southward. 
I  don't  know  how  we  can  ever  thank  you  enough." 

"  That's  all  right,  Ly,"  Southward  answered.  "  I  really  did 
very  little.  But  you  know  how  glad  I  am  to  do  that.  Lucky  I 
was  home  when  you  came." 

She  arose  and  drew  on  the  coat  which  Mrs.  Wallis  had  brought 
from  downstairs.  "  I  guess  I'll  go  now.  I'll  be  back  again  to 
morrow — I  mean  to-day — to  see  how  Pearl  is." 

She  rode  home  through  a  dew-damp,  opalescent  dawn.  She 
went  immediately  to  bed;  but  when  Charlotte  began  to  stir  in  the 
kitchen,  she  joined  her  at  once.  Charlotte  listened  breathlessly 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  455 

to  the  recital  of  her  experience;  broke  into  a  flood  of  questions. 
"  Just  think,  now  I'm  going  to  have  a  chance  to  see  a  little  new 
born  baby,"  was  her  last  comment. 

Late  that  afternoon,  Southward  called  at  the  Manning  house. 
Pearl  was  doing  well,  Mrs.  Wallis  informed  her,  sleeping  most 
of  the  time,  asleep  at  that  moment.  She  asked  Southward  to 
sit  down  for  a  cup  of  tea  and  all  the  time  they  sat  talking  she 
held  the  baby.  Later  she  went  up  to  reconnoitre  at  Pearl's  door. 
She  handed  the  baby  over  to  Southward  and  Southward  held  it  for 
the  rest  of  her  stay. 

Southward  went  daily  thereafter  to  call  on  Pearl.  After  a 
few  days  Mrs.  Wallis,  leaving  the  baby  with  Southward,  took 
that  opportunity  to  go  on  errands  or  to  do  odd  tasks  about  the 
house.  In  her  absence  Southward  talked  with  Pearl;  or  held  the 
child. 

Pearl's  case  was  a  normal  one  and  she  grew  stronger  steadily. 
The  baby  was  normal  too.  It  slept  and  nursed  at  regular  intervals 
and  with  avidity.  The  birth-strain  flush  had  long  ago  faded  out 
of  Pearl's  face;  she  looked  bleak.  The  baby  whitened  more  grad 
ually;  but  she  soon  began  to  show  signs  of  that  beauty  which 
women  see  in  infancy  long  before  it  really  manifests  itself.  "  She's 
got  such  a  nice  little  nose  and  her  ears  are  as  close  to  her  head  as 
though  they  were  buttoned  down,"  Mrs.  Wallis  said.  "•!  declare 
I  think  ithe  baby  knows  you,"  she  added  later.  "  She  seems  to  have 
sensed  it  that  you  come  every  day  about  this  hour.  I'll  have  to 
tell  Pearl  if  she  doesn't  get  well  pretty  quick,  and  begin  to  take 
care  of  her,  you'll  steal  her  baby's  love." 

Southward  made  no  answer;  but  she  looked  with  an  amused 
interest  into  the  tiny  face. 

One-  day  when  Southward  came,  she  found  Pearl  sitting  up. 
In  a  few  days  she  was  on  her  feet.  In  a  week  or  twcr'she  seemed 
her  old  self,  her  energy  touched  only  now  and  then  with  languor. 
Southward  continued  her  daily  calls.  And  always  the  instant 
she  got  there,  one  of  the  two  women  deposited  the  baby  on  her 
lap. 

October  passed  and  November.  Southward's  languor  began  to 
break  into  something  like  her  old-time  restlessness.  Only  a  little 
like  it  though;  for  she  seemed  to  be  actuated  not  so  much  by  a 
resistless  energy  breaking  into  movement  and  splashing  over  in 
noise,  as  by  a  very  demon  of  discontent.  In  the  midst  of  her 
late  reading  now,  her  eye  often  wandered  off  the  page  and  fixed 
on  the .  distance.  Her  walks  were  devil-driven  feats  of  speed. 
She  worked  with  Charlotte  on  what '  remained  of  the  furniture, 


456  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

in   a   concentration   attended  by  long  moody  periods   of   silence 
and  sudden  spasmodic  bursts  of  talk. 

"  Do  you  know,  Charlotte,"  she  said  one  afternoon,  "  I  think 
I  may  run  over  to  New  York  for  a  few  days  next  week.  I  feel 
somehow  as  though  I  needed  a  change  of  scene.  It  always  stimu 
lates  me  to  go  to  New  York." 

"  So  do !  "  Charlotte  urged.  "  I  notice  you've  been  kind  of 
restless  lately  and  I  think  it  will  do  you  good." 

"  I'll  have  Libbie  and  Sue-Salome  stay  with  you  while  I'm 
gone,"  Southward  added.  "  You  wouldn't  be  afraid  with  those 
girls  here." 

"  I  wouldn't  be  afraid  all  alone,"  Charlotte  boasted.  "  I  never 
was  afraid  when  I  was  blind  and  now  I've  got  my  eyes  I'm  as 
brave  as  a  lion." 

Southward  went  upstairs  to  the  garret,  dragged  down  a  trunk 
and  a  suitcase.  "  I  think  I'll  take  a  trunk,"  she  explained,  "  be 
cause  after  I  get  over  there,  I  may  feel  like  staying  more  than  a 
few  days." 

"  You  be  sure  to  stay  just  as  long  as  you  want,"  Charlotte 
advised  fervently.  "  You  need  a  change  and  a  rest  and  I  want 
that  you  should  have  it." 

"  It's  a  good  thing  that  I  chose  a  small  trunk,"  Southward 
declared  after  packing.  "  I  haven't  clothes  enough  to  fill  a  big 
one.  The  first  thing  I'm  going  to  do  when  I  get  to  New  York 
is  to  buy  some  new  duds.  I  hadn't  realised  how  I'd  let  myself 
run  down." 

"  You  buy  yourself  all  the  pretty  things  you  want !  "  Charlotte's 
fervour  had  not  abated.  "  You've  had  a  hard  year  what  with  Aunt 
Lorenza's  death  so  sudden  and  Pearl's  baby  coming  the  way  it  did 
— not  to  mention  all  you  went  through  with  me  in  the  spring. 
It's  been  a  great  shock  to  you.  I  guess  you  don't  realise.  I  do 
though.  You've  changed  very  much,  Southward." 

"  Have  I  ?  "  asked  Southward.     She  smiled  enigmatically. 

That  afternoon  she  found  Pearl  alone  with  the  baby  when  she 
went  to  make  her  daily  call.  She  told  her  of  the  proposed  trip  to 
New  York. 

"  I'm  glad  you're  going,  for  your  own  sake,  Southward,"  Pearl 
said,  "  for  I  think  you  really  need  a  change.  I  shall  miss  you 
very  much  though,  and  I'm  sure  the  baby  will." 

"  I  shall  miss  her,"  Southward  declared,  "  and  you  too.  I'm 
glad  though  to  leave  you  perfectly  well." 

For  a  moment,  silence  fell.  Pearl's  eyes  were  riveted  on  her 
baby  lying  asleep  in  Southward's  arms.  But  it  was  evident  that, 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  457 

for   once,   her   gaze   was   not   really  on  her  child.     Southward's 
glance  had  gone  out  of  the  window. 

"  Southward,"  Pearl  broke  the  stillness  at  last,  "  there's  some 
thing  I  want  to  say  to  you — something  I've  wanted  to  tell  you  for 
a  long  time.  I've  been  trying  to  get  up  my  courage  to  open  the 
subject  for  over  a  week.  I  don't  know  that  I  could  even  have 
done  it  to-day  if  Lysander  hadn't  said  to  me  something  this 
morning  that  makes  everything  easy.  He  told  me  that  he  had 
never  dreamed  that  he  could  know  such  happiness  as  our  married 
life  has  brought  him.  When  he  said  that,  I  found  that  I  had 
the  courage  to  talk  about  anything  with  you.  And  now  you're 

going   away "     She  paused  as  though  trying  to  collect  her 

thoughts. 

"  Well,  Pearl,"  Southward  said,  smiling,  "  it  is  quite  evident 
to  the  most  inobservant  that  Lysander  is  the  happiest  man  in 
Shayneford." 

"  It's  about  Lysander  that  I  want  to  talk,"  Pearl  began.  She 
had  apparently  heard  Southward's  comment  without  considering 
it.  Now  she  was  intent  on  her  own  thoughts.  "  I  don't  want 
that  you  should  have  the  wrong  idea  about  Lysander.  I  want 
that  you  should  think  just  as  highly  of  him  as  ever  you  did.  And 
so  I'm  going  to  tell  you  that  what  happened — before  we  were 
married — wasn't  Lysander's  fault.  It  was  mine.  It  never  would 

have  happened — never  in  this  world "    Pearl's  emphasis  had  a 

quality  of  solemnity,  " — if  I  hadn't  made  him  believe  that  he  wasn't 
the  first  man  with  me.  He  was  the  first — but  I  lied  to  him.  I'm 
telling  you  something,  Southward,  that  I  have  never  told  anybody, 
not  even  my  mother.  But  Lysander  didn't  go  away  that  time  to 
get  out  of  any  responsibility.  He  had  to  make  a  business  trip.  I 
thought  it  was  all  right  for  him  to  go  and  told  him  so.  And 
then  later  when  I  realised  that  we  must  be  married,  I  wrote  him 
and  telegraphed  him.  Everything  was  delayed  getting  to  him. 
But  he  came  the  instant  he  could.  I  wasn't  frightened.  I  knew 
he'd  come.  He  nearly  got  down  on  his  knees  to  ask  my  forgive 
ness  when  I  told  him  the  truth.  And  we  were  married  that  night. 
I  can't  bear  to  have  you  go  away  thinking — I  don't  mind  what 
you  think  of  me,  but  I  want  you  to  know  that  Lysander  is  as  fine 
and  honourable  as  a  man  can  be." 

"I  know  that,  Pearl,"  Southward  maintained.  "Nothing  that 
could  happen  could  change  my  idea  of  Lysander.  What  you're  tell 
ing  me  is  none  of  my  business.  And  I've  been  about  enough  now 
to  know  that  we  can't  judge  of  these  things  at  all,  that  what's 
on  the  inside  is  often  very  different  from  what  appears  on  the 


458  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

outside.  As  for  my  opinion  of  you — that's  a  matter  of  very  little 
consequence.  I  have  no  opinion  except  that  you  are  just  the  wife 
for  Lysander  and  I  don't  care  particularly  how  you  happened  to 
marry  each  other  as  long  as  you  did  it  ultimately." 

"  I  don't  care  either,"  Pearl  said  simply.     "  I'm  so  happy  that 
all  the  rest  of  my  life  I'm  going  to  try  to  deserve  being  so  happy." 


CHAPTER  in 

SOUTHWARD  departed  for  New  York  the  next  day.  She  went  at 
once  to  a  little  hotel  in  the  Thirties  between  Fifth  and  Madison 
Avenues.  The  brilliant  New  York  air  produced  its  inevitable 
stimulation.  Her  step  grew  more  springy,  her  expression  more 
alert.  She  studied  the  faces  of  the  people  she  passed  with  a 
vivid  intensity.  She  lingered  before  shop  windows  with  an  amused 
interest.  But  although  she  wandered  through  shops,  she  bought 
none  of  the  new  clothes  that  she  had  insisted  she  must  get.  She 
went  to  the  theatre  alone  and  laughed  heartily  at  the  light  enter 
tainment  provided  for  her  there.  For  a  week  she  saw  nobody  she 
knew;  spoke  to  nobody  but  the  hotel  employees.  Then  suddenly, 
one  day  she  ran  into  Morena. 

"  Southward,"  he  exclaimed  electrically  and  stopped  in  the 
middle  of  the  sidewalk.  "  Fancy  meeting  you !  You're  the  last 
person  on  earth  I  expected  to  see  this  day.  Nevertheless  you're 
a  sight  for  sore  eyes  and  my  vision  is  entirely  restored.  How 
well  you're  looking!  What  a  coat  of  tan!  But  you're  thinner, 
aren't  you  ? " 

"  I  think  I  am,"  Southward  answered.  Her  still  composure  con 
trasted  with  Morena's  palpable  embarrassment. 

Morena  turned  and  walked  with  her,  talking  on  and  on.  Under 
the  cover  of  his  fluency,  his  confusion  began  to  recede.  That 
confusion  had  not  at  all  nullified  a  delight,  equally  obvious,  in 
seeing  her.  "  I'm  on  my  way  to  lunch,"  he  ended  finally.  "  Come 
with  me.  I'll  take  you  to  a  nice  little  place  that  I  think  you've 
never  seen." 

"  Thank  you,  I've  lunched,"  Southward  replied,  "  but  I'll  sit 
with  you  while  you  eat." 

"  When  did  you  get  in  ?  How  long  are  you  going  to  be  here  ? 
Where  are  you  staying  ?  How's  Hester  ?  "  Morena  bombarded  her. 

Southward  answered  all  these  questions  with  composure.  "How 
is  everybody?  "  she  demanded  in  her  turn.  "  Azile,  Edith,  Dwight, 
John,  Ripley  ? "  she  added  with  explicitness.  She  looked  Morena 
square  in  the  eye. 

They  had  turned  into  the  little  cafe  near  South  Fifth  Avenue 
which  Morena  had  promised  her,  an  Italian  place,  small  and 

459 


460  THE  LADY  OP  KINGDOMS 

crowded,  but  clean  and  inviting.  Morena  stopped  to  order  his 
lunch  and  the  cocktail  in  which  alone  Southward  agreed  to  join 
him.  These  preliminaries  concluded,  he  answered  her  questions. 
"  We're  all  scattered.  When  you  and  Hester  deserted  us,  you 
broke  us  up.  We've  never  been  the  same  crowd  since.  Poor 
Edith  went  to  pieces  in  the  spring  and  still  isn't  herself.  Azile 
sailed  for  Paris  later  and  hasn't  come  back  yet." 

"  Yes,  I  heard  all  about  that  from  Hester,"  Southward  threw 
in.  "  I  was  awfully  sorry  too.  I  wrote  Edith  and  got  a  nice  letter 
from  her.  But  that's  all." 

"  Yes,  she's  been  in  the  country  ever  since  under  a  nurse's 
care — a  friend  of  hers — that  Miss  Osgood.  John  and  Eipley 
go  out  there  constantly,  but  I've  only  been  there  once  or  twice. 
I  think  she  still  finds  company  a  little  too  exciting.  She  seemed 
much  improved  the  last  time  I  saw  her,  but  she's  not  well  by  any 
means  yet.  I  have  a  suspicion  that  Edith  had  a  close  shave. 
Dwight " — he  took  the  wine-card  up  and  examined  it  but  he 
talked  straight  through  his  scrutiny  of  the  printed  list — "  had  an 
attack  of  typhoid  in  the  spring.  He  went  up  to  his  father's 
farm — you  know  Essex,  New  Hampshire — to  recuperate.  And 
he's  b^en  there  ever  since.  I  get  a  letter  from  him  occasionally. 
He's  writing,  I  understand,  free-lance  stuff.  He  refuses  to  say 
what,  though." 

"  I'm  glad  he's  got  a  chance  to  write  what  he  prefers,  at  last," 
Southward  commented  coolly.  "  He's  always  wanted  that." 

"Eipley  and  John  are  on  their  separate  jobs  as  usual.  I  guess 
that's  about  all  the  history  we've  made." 

"  What  have  you  been  doing  ?  " 

"  Oh,  the  same  old  things,"  Morena  answered,  "  missing  you 
very  much  among  them.  Life  lost  a  good  deal  of  excitement  when 
you  left  town,  Southward.  For  one  thing  I'm  never  certain 
that  I'll  wake  at  the  right  hour  in  the  morning.  In  fact  I  never 
do.  Are  you  going  to  call  me  to-morrow  ? " 

"  Yes,  if  you  wish,"  Southward  agreed.  "  It  will  constitute  my 
day's  work.  This  is  my  vacation,  you  see.  I've  had  rather  a  hard 
summer." 

She  told  him  briefly  of  her  grandmother's  death,  of  her  grand 
father's  departure  for  the  Circle  and  of  the  miracle  that  had  been 
performed  for  Charlotte. 

Morena  listened  with  the  quick  Celtic  sympathy  which  was 
one  of  his  most  agreeable  attributes.  He  spoke  of  Mrs.  Drake 
with  a  humorous  appreciation  that  had  a  touch  of  affection.  He 
applauded  Mr.  Drake's  resolution  to  enter  the  Circle  again  and 


461 

made  Southward  promise  she  would  share  her  grandfather's 
letters  with  him.  He  asked  many  interested  questions  about 
Charlotte.  But  he  seemed  to  remember  everybody  that  he  had 
met  in  Shayneford.  Beginning  with  Hallowell  and  Mrs.  Crowell, 
he  asked  in  detail  about  all  his  acquaintances  there.  "  What  are 
you  doing  to-night  ? "  he  concluded  as  they  arose  from  the  table. 

"Nothing,"  Southward  answered. 

"  Then  will  you  go  to  the  theatre  with  me  ?  Dinner  first  of 
course.  Have  you  seen  anything  ? "  He  bought  a  paper  and  they 
selected  the  play  immediately. 

When  Southward  left  him,  her  whole  manner  changed.  All 
her  repressed  vitality  seemed  to  bubble  to  the  surface.  That 
vitality  expressed  itself  in  immediate  action.  She  bought  a  new 
suit,  new  blouses,  gloves,  shoes,  a  hat.  The  suit  even  departed 
a  little  from  her  characteristic  boyish  plainness;  it  was  almost 
feminine  in  type.  She  expressed  herself  in  the  shop  as  pleased 
with  the  hat;  but  when  it  came  late  in  the  afternoon,  she  re- 
trimmed  it.  When  Morena  called  that  evening  she  was  wearing 
her  new  clothes. 

"  My  word,  Southward,  you  are  handsome !  "  Morena  approved. 
In  their  short  walk  to  the  Broadway  restaurant,  which  he  had 
picked  because  it  was  near  the  theatre,  he  kept  showering  her 
with  admiring  side  glances.  "  And  you  do  put  these  New  York 
women  out.  You  always  have.  I  suppose  you  always  will.  You're 
like  a  virile  black-and-white  in  the  midst  of  a  lot  of  feeble  water- 
colours." 

"  Thanks !  "  Southward  said  carelessly,  "  I  haven't  observed  that 
effect  myself.  But  of  course  it  must  be  true  if  you  say  so." 

They  had  a  gay  dinner  accompanied  by  a  cocktail  and  one  of 
the  delicious  wines,  light,  white,  dry,  which  Morena  was  an  adept 
at  choosing.  Southward's  spirits  rose  steadily.  They  were  not 
the  result  of  the  wine,  for  she  drank  sparingly.  In  half  an  hour, 
the  old  relation  had  established  itself;  Morena  pursuing  half  in 
jest  and  half  in  earnest;  Southward  evading,  eluding,  parrying, 
thrusting  occasionally,  and  laughing  all  the  time  but  with  a 
suggestion  of  insecurity  underneath. 

It  was  a  delightful  evening.  The  play  offered  them  all  they  had 
expected  of  it  and  even  contained  a  surprise.  Afterwards  they 
went  to  a  Broadway  cafe  which  was  more  than  usually  crowded 
with  celebrities  and  notorieties.  Morena  pointed  them  all  out; 
flooded  Southward  with  their  high-coloured  histories  and  the 
current  gossip.  They  walked  home  in  a  clear  crisp  starry  dark. 
Before  he  left,  Morena  engaged  her  for  dinner  again,  an  exhibi- 


462  THE  LAOT   OF  KINGDOMS 

tion  of  pictures,   a  long  tri  mp   on   Staten  Island  for  the  next 
Sunday. 

This  was  the  beginning  of  an  intimacy  that  grew  closer 'and 
closer.  Morena  never  left  Southward  without  assuring  himself 
of  as  much  of  her  company  as  it  was  possible  to  have.  He  had 
not  lost  his  old-time  flair  for  picturesque  and  characterised  enter 
tainment.  They  made  the  round  of  the  restaurants  in  the  various 
foreign  quarters  to  which  he  had  previously  introduced  her.  He 
took  her  gradually  to  all  the  new  places  he  had  discovered.  They 
went  occasionally  to  the  theatre;  often  to  dance-halls.  Oftenest 
of  all  they  sat  at  the  restaurant-table  talking,  until  the  waiters 
began  to  stack  the  chairs  on  the  tables.  Regularly  every  morning 
at  eight,  Southward  waked  Morena  by  telephone.  They  talked 
at  these  times  for  indefinite  intervals.  Sundays  they  devoted  to 
tramps  about  the  country. 

Southward  drifted  on  the  current  of  all  this  experience.  She 
invited  no  closer  intimacy  than  their  frank  man-and-woman  com 
panionship  ;  neither  did  she  provoke  it.  But  inevitably,  as  she 
placed  no  bars  on  its  progress,  it  grew  of  its  own  volition.  Now, 
whenever  they  walked  after  dark,  Morena's  hand  carelessly  held 
her  arm.  He  often  accented  his  remarks  by  a  pat  on  her 
shoulder  or  on  her  hand.  He  lingered  over  the  business  of  holding 
her  coat.  Sometimes  his  hands  dropped  on  her  shoulders  and 
fell  caressingly  down  her  arm  to  her  elbow.  If  Southward  noticed 
this,  she  gave  no  sign.  Certainly  she  never  rebuked  him.  She 
drifted. 

One  evening,  he  spoke  of  a  picture  that  had  been  sent  him 
from  Paris  and  suggested  that  he  take  her  to  his  place  to  see  it. 
He  had  a  pair  of  rooms  in  a  big  old  mansion  just  off  Madison 
Avenue.  Dignified  and  even  beautiful,  the  rooms  were  large 
and  high;  the  tall  doors  of  solid  mahogany;  the  knobs,  locks,  and 
hinges  of  silver.  The  windows,  deeply  recessed,  were  long,  with 
low  seats.  Morena's  taste  in  decoration  fell  somewhere  between 
John's  monastic  plainness  and  Dwight's  virile  comfortableness; 
it  was  more  subtle  and  sophisticated  than  either.  One  or  two  of 
the  few  pieces  of  furniture  in  his  living-room  were  Spanish,  the 
rest  French.  Except  for  the  new  oil,  the  portrait  of  a  dancer, 
done  in  the  futurist  manner,  there  were  no  paintings.  Above  the 
low  crowded  bookcases  however  were  pinned  unframed  prints 
and  sketches. 

Morena  made  coffee.  While  Southward  sipped  her  cordial, 
Morena  unpinned  his  pictures  from  the  wall  and  brought  them 
to  her.  Seeing  that  she  was  really  interested,  he  showed  her  his 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  463 

collection  of  foreign  loot.  Southward  passed  over  the  small  litter 
quickly;  but  she  examined  the  "furniture  with  care.  She  told 
him  of  her  own  experiments  in  scraping,  waxing,  and  polishing. 
They  talked  with  much  more  seriousness  than  usual. 

She  stayed  less  than  an  hour.  When  she  started  to  go,  Morena 
did  not  suggest  a  delay.  His  manner  had  been  quiet  but  defer 
ential  ;  almost  he  treated  her  with  a  distant  courtesy. 

They  got  into  the  way  of  going  to  his  rooms  for  coffee;  not 
always,  for  Morena  himself  often  suggested  cafes  where  he  had 
found  the  coffee  particularly  good.  Whatever  his  suggestions 
were,  she  fell  in  with  them.  In  this,  as  in  everything  else,  she 
continued  to  drift. 

In  the  meantime  the  weather  displayed  a  belated  recrudescence 
of  Indian  summer.  There  came  two  days  of  soft  warmth,  winey 
sunshine,  tender  gauziness  of  vista.  A  big  moon,  as  light  as  a 
bubble  of  golden  water,  swayed  through  the  dewy  purple  skies. 
One  night  while  still  the  moon  stayed  gold,  they  hurried  through 
their  dinner  in  order  to  ride  on  a  Fifth  Avenue  stage. 

It  was  about  eleven  o'clock  when  they  returned  and  Morena 
asked  Southward  if  she  thought  it  was  too  late  for  coffee  in  his 
room.  She  said  no. 

The  moonlight  was  shining  straight  through  his  windows  and 
Morena  pulled  back  the  curtain  draperies  to  give  it  complete 
access.  He  started  to  switch  on  the  lights  and  then  with  a 
"Jove,  no!  This  is  too  beautiful  to  ruin,"  lighted  a  few  candles 
instead.  The  room  was  in  half-darkness.  Southward  had  seated 
herself  on  the  couch  after  throwing  off  her  hat  and  coat.  She 
leaned  among  the  cushions,  one  hand  back  of  her  neck,  the  other 
extending  along  the  back  of  the  couch.  She  contemplated  the 
faery  scene  that  the  moonlight,  mingled  with  candlelight,  made; 
the  quiet  mellow  walls;  the  darkly-carved  bulks  of  the  old  furni 
ture;  the  great  patches  of  amethyst  and  silver  on  the  polished 
floors;  here  and  there  the  golden  flicker  of  a  candle-flame.  It  was 
as  though  for  the  first  time  in  her  life  a  purely  sensuous  delight 
had  overtaken  Southward;  joy  in  the  beauty  of  light  and  shade, 
thrown  on  colour.  Her  eyes  softened  dreamily.  Smiles  turned 
away  her  lips  which  were  still  the  colour  of  raspberries  and  the 
texture  of  pearl,  in  a  constant  delicate  flutter  from  her  softly- 
gleaming  little  teeth. 

Before  starting  the  coffee,  Morena  came  and  sat  at  the  foot 
of  the  couch.  He  contemplated  her  smiling,  his  arms  folded. 

"  You  are  beautiful  to-night,  Southward,"  he  said.  "  You  know 
that  I  suppose.  And  tempting — and  I  suppose  you  know  that 


464  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

too.  But  if  you  know  how  tempting  you  are,  you're  not  playing 
fair." 

Southward  did  not  answer. 

He  dipped  forward  suddenly  and  kissed  the  hand  that  lay  along 
the  back  of  the  couch.  Southward  did  not  move,  nor  did  she 
speak.  But  that  ripple  of  her  lips  stopped.  Otherwise  she  was 
passive. 

With  a  sudden  savage  movement,  Morena  caught  her  in  his 
arms,  pulled  her  forward.  Her  head  fell  on  his  shoulder;  rested 
there.  Yet  she  remained  passive.  She  drifted. 

Morena  paused  an  instant.  Then  his  lips  found  hers;  he  kissed 
her  many  times.  "  I  feel  like  a  cad,"  he  said  once,  "  here  in  my 
rooms.  But  I  can't  help  it." 

Southward  made  no  response  even  to  this.  She  continued  to 
lie  in  his  arms  without  struggling.  Morena  hesitated  an  instant, 
stared  haggardly  at  a  patch  of  the  moonlight;  but  his  arms 
drew  her  closer — closer 

Then  he  stopped. 

"  If  I  only  understood  the  whole  situation,"  he  groaned.  "  But 
you're  such  an  elusive  thing.  I  can't  get  you.  Nobody  can. 
There's  something  ungraspable  about  you — untamable.  You  are 
the  last  word  as  an  enigma.  I  defy  any  man  to  beat  your  game. 
And  yet  all  there  is  to  it  is  silence  and  stillness.  If  I  only  under 
stood  you!  I  know  Dwight's  in  love  with  you.  He  loves  you 
as  he's  never  loved  any  woman  in  my  knowledge  of  him.  And 
yet  there's  something — but  you  don't  love  him.  You  can't  love 
him.  You  couldn't  love  him  and  treat  him  the  way  you  do." 

He  stared  with  question  into  Southward's  face  as  it  lay  pillowed 
on  his  shoulder.  Her  eyes  were  half-closed  but  she  opened  them 
wide  and  stared  back  at  him.  She  did  not  speak. 

"  I  can't  tell  now,  damn  you,"  he  said.  "  I  wonder  if  you  know 
yourself?  One  thing  I  do  know.  I've  always  known  it.  You 
know  it  too,  and  you've  always  known  it.  And  that  is  that  there's 
something  between  us.  Some  bond  that  pulls  us  together.  You 
knew  it  all  that  month  I  was  in  Shayneford  and  you  knew  it  all 
last  winter  when  you  were  in  New  York.  You're  afraid  of  me. 
You're  not  afraid  of  Dwight,  but  you're  afraid  of  me.  I've  always 
know  a  that  you  were  afraid  of  me.  But  you  won't  admit  it  to 
yourself.  I  don't  know  whether  I  love  you  or  no.  I'm  crazy  about 

you  of  course  and  to-night  I'm But  I'm  not  sure  that  I'm  in 

love  with  you.  You're  a  fascinating  thing  but  you're  hard." 

He  stopped  and  stared  down  at  her  again.  Again  Southward's 
closed  lips  parted  before  the  impact  of  his  sombre  gaze.  This 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  465 

time  she  turned  her  look  away.  .  But  she  smiled.  Never  before 
perhaps  had  her  lips  curved  in  anything  so  definitely  like  invita 
tion.  Her  little  teeth  looked  in  the  moonlight  like  silver  enamel 
and  between  them  her  slender  tongue  velvety-pink,  offered  another 
contrast  as  enticing  as  the  blood-red  crimson  of  her  mouth. 

Morena's  clasp  on  her  body  grew  tighter  and  tighter  and  yet 
he  still  held  her  loosely.  Suddenly  he  pulled  her  close  with  a 
more  determined  savagery.  He  kissed  her  madly. 

Southward  still  drifted. 

Morena  dropped  her  on  the  couch.  He  drew  away.  He  knelt 
beside  her.  His  lips  crushed  her  lips.  "  I  can't  stand  this — 
much  longer — Southward — is  it  yes  or  no  ?  " 

But  Southward  did  not  speak.  She  might  have  been  dead 
except  that  never  could  she  have  been  more  intensely  alive. 

"  Oh,  you  devil-woman,"  Morena  groaned.  "  You  leave  it  to 
me.  Well,  I'll  take  my  chance.  I'll " 

Suddenly  he  leaped  to  his  feet.  "  No,  by  God,  I  won't.  You're 
too  good  for  this.  Dwight's  in  love  with  you.  You're  in  love 
with  him.  You're  eating  your  hearts  out  for  each  other.  It's 
only  that  hellish  pride  of  yours  that  won't  let  you  admit  it.  I 
know  it  though  and  you  know  it.  I'm  going  to  take  you  home 
now.  You're  too  damned  plucky  and  fine  for  this  sort  of  thing. 
And  to-morrow  you  go  back  to  Dwight.  Don't  let  me  see  you 
again.  I  can  save  you  once,  but  I  can't  do  it  a  second  time." 

He  picked  up  her  coat. 


CHAPTER  IV 

HESTER  and  her  mother  held  no  conversation  on  the  way  to  the 
train.  During  the  ride  to  Boston,  their  comments  were  few  and 
mainly  of  superficial  things :  Tabby's  perplexity  over  this  strange 
experience,  a  new  branch  that  the  railroad  was  building.  In 
Boston,  Hester  took  complete  charge  of  the  situation.  She  kept 
it  for  the  rest  of  the  trip.  They  started  for  the  West  the  next 
morning.  In  the  meantime,  leaving  her  mother  at  the  hotel, 
Hester  did  a  little  shopping.  When  she  came  back,  she  was 
wearing  a  plain  gold  ring  on  the  third  finger  of  her  left  hand. 
"  My  name  is  now  Mrs.  Henry  Fawcett,  mother,"  she  said, 
"  Henry  because  it  was  father's  name — Fawcett  because  that  was 
his  mother's  name.  You  understand  that  I  am  a  widow  and  my 
child  will  be  a  posthumous  one." 

Her  mother  made  no  comment  on  this,  then  or  at  any  other 
time.  Hester  herself  did  not  again  refer  to  the  subject.  The  five 
days  of  travel  across  the  Continent  were  long,  silent  ones.  Hester, 
who  slept  unaccustomedly  late,  always  found  her  mother  in  the 
observation-car  waiting  for  her.  Mrs.  Crowell,  whose  sleeper  was 
across  the  aisle  from  Hester,  was  the  first  one  up  in  the 
car.  They  rarely  went  into  the  observation-car  during  the  day. 
For  the  most  part,  they  remained  in  their  own  seats,  reading  or 
sewing.  Mrs.  Crowell  sat  for  long  periods  with  her  gaze  fastened 
to  the  flying  landscape.  Occasionally  she  made  a  comment  on  it 
but  that  was  obviously  when  the  whirl  of  her  thoughts  broke, 
producing  blankness.  In  the  evening,  between  their  dinner  and 
their  early  retirement,  they  read  magazines  in  the  observation-car. 
They  responded  to  the  overtures  made  by  their  fellow-passengers, 
but  they  did  not  encourage  them. 

"  I  think  it  will  be  best  to  keep  house  in  San  Francisco,"  Hester 
said  once.  "  Perhaps  we  might  board  a  little  more  cheaply.  But 
I  don't  want  to  have  to  talk  to  people.  I  want  to  keep  to  myself 
as  much  as  possible  until  it's  all  over." 

"  I  want  to  keep  to  myself  as  much  as  possible  for  the  rest  of  my 
life,"  her  mother  answered  sombrely.  "  Oh,  yes,  there's  no  sense 
in  trying  to  live  any  other  way  but  in  our  own  home." 

When  they  reached  Oakland,  Hester  again  took  charge  of  the 

466 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  467 

situation,  and  even  more  capable  charge.  It  was  necessary.  Her 
mother  was  like  a  block  of  wood,  propelled,  in  walking,  by  some 
mechanical  power  within.  Crossing  the  bay,  she  gazed  at  the 
craft-crowded  satin-smooth,  blue  waters,  the  islands  green  and 
velvety  soft,  the  gulls  swirling  and  creaking  about  the  boat  and 
San  Francisco,  on  its  many  hills,  riding  steadily  nearer  and  nearer, 
with  a  face  which  held  one  unchanging  expression — stupefaction. 
That  look  deepened  when  they  reached  the  city  and  gazing  down 
Market  Street,  crowded,  colourful,  gay,  she  saw  Twin  Peaks  mak 
ing  a  drop-curtain  in  the  air  or  gazed  by  accident  up  side  streets 
whose  tops  broke  abruptly  against  the  sky. 

They  went  at  once  to  a  little  hotel  of  which  Hester  seemed  to 
know  before  she  came.  They  spent  the  next  day  looking  for  an 
apartment.  Hester  owned,  it  came  out,  a  well-studied  map  of  the 
city.  Also,  during  the  past  few  months  she  had  read  much  fiction 
laid  in  California,  and  particularly  about  San  Francisco.  No 
country,  except  perhaps  Italy,  has  topographically  so  stamped 
itself  on  its  literature.  She  had  a  few  very  definite  ideas  in  regard 
to  localities.  It  was  therefore  not  entirely  due  to  accident  that 
they  ransacked  Russian  Hill  first. 

On  the  third  day  of  their  stay,  they  found  a  half-house  on  the 
highest  part  of  that  picturesque  elevation.  The  rent  was  small 
because  the  house  was  old  and  sagging,  ugly  and  inconvenient. 
In  the  early  days  of  the  gold-rush,  it  had  been  brought  round  the 
Horn  by  a  sea-captain  who  set  it  up  there.  The  five  rooms  which 
constituted  Hester's  share  of  the  house  were  big,  but  tall,  all 
out  of  proportion  to  their  size.  They  bought  as  little  furniture  as 
possible;  moved  in  within  a  week.  The  rooms  had  an  effect  of 
dreary  bareness,  but  both  women  seemed  impervious  to  this. 
Perhaps  it  was  that  neither  could  have  been  more  absorbed  in 
tragic  reflection.  But  in  addition,  they  knew  few  idle  moments. 
They  settled  the  house  as  soon  as  possible:  afterwards  they  divided 
their  time  between  housework  and  sewing.  Mrs.  Crowell  in  par 
ticular  had  turned  into  a  silent,  steadily-working  piece  of  human 
mechanism.  If  it  were  warm,  she  worked  outside,  in  the  garden. 
When  it  was  cold,  she  sat  at  the  windows.  And  always  she  gazed 
with  her  perennial  air  of  stupefaction  on  the  strange  combination 
of  city,  sea,  sky,  forest,  and  mountains  on  which  she  looked. 

The  windows,  like  the  doors,  were  narrow  but  high.  They  let 
into  their  rooms  constant  floods  of  the  brilliant  Californian  sun 
shine  and  sudden  impulses  of  perfume  from  surrounding  gardens. 
For  this  humble  reminder  of  mining-camp  days  was  now  caught 
in  a  tangle  of  modern  residences  whose  elaborate  beauty  aped 


468  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

the  simplicity  of  the  old  Spanish  Mission.  Their  architecture 
accommodated  itself  perfectly  to  the  sloping  sides  of  the  hill,  on 
which  it  clung  limpet-like,  and  harmonised  perfectly  in  creamy 
walls  and  red  roofs  with  the  dazzling  blue  of  sea  and  sky.  Be 
tween  these  houses — and  they  too  tumbled  down  hill — lay  gardens 
which  looked  as  old  and  perfected  as  anything  New  England 
had  to  offer  with  all  the  Californian  lushness  of  growth  beside. 
Sea  and  sky  were  near;  forest  not  far;  and  mountains  just  beyond. 

In  front  the  city  leaped  swiftly  to  the  bay,  a  jumble  of  houses 
of  all  sizes,  shapes,  colours,  materials;  ugly  in  near  detail,  pic 
turesque  in  far-off  mass;  with  close  a  white  Spanish  church  offer 
ing  beautiful  but  quiet  contrast.  The  bay  by  day  was  awash  with 
sea-craft.  By  night  it  lifted  to  their  vision  Oakland  and  Berke 
ley,  levelled  on  clear  nights  to  glittering  star-sown  planes  and 
whipped  on  foggy  ones  to  a  foaming  silver  mist.  San  Francisco 
caught  in  a  great  web  of  diamonds;  ferry-boats  all  ablaze  weaving 
threads  of  fire  between  them. 

At  first  their  walks  went  no  further  than  the  tiny  peak  on 
which  they  lived.  It  commanded  in  one  direction  Telegraph  Hill 
with  the  green  trees  at  its  top;  Tamalpais  to  the  left  imprinting 
on  the  sky  the  soft  contours  of  a  sleeping  woman ;  Mount  Diabolo 
further  on  lifting  into  the  far  background,  as  though  presenting 
a  gigantic  problem  in  aerial  geometry,  a  perfect  blue  triangle; 
Alcatraz  floating  on  the  bay,  a  rock-bound,  white-palaced  island 
in  sunlight,  a  jewelled  mosaic  by  moonlight;  and  everywhere, 
bounding  San  Francisco  hills,  covered  with  houses  which  looked 
like  cubes  of  pearl. 

But  gradually  they  extended  their  walks.  During  the  day 
time,  they  wandered  about  the  streets  of  the  shopping  district, 
gazing  into  the  windows  that  offer  the  stranger  unlimited  enter 
tainment;  book  shops,  art  shops;  jewelry  shops;  photographers' 
showcases.  At  night  they  were  very  likely  to  turn  to  Market 
Street  where  a  perpetual  gaiety  seemed  for  a  while  to  take  them 
out  of  themselves.  Often  though  before  going  home,  they  passed 
through  the  department-store  area,  staring  into  big  lighted  win 
dows  where  groups  of  wax  figures  displayed  the  latest  fashion 
caprice  from  Paris.  On  Sundays,  they  treated  themselves  to  a 
car-ride  to  the  beach  or  a  ferry-ride  to  Berkeley  or  Sausalito. 
These  marked  the  limits  of  their  explorations. 

"  Sometime  when  I'm  better,"  Hester  said  once,  employing  the 
euphemism  by  which  always  she  referred  to  the  period  after  her 
child's  birth,  "we'll  go  to  Muir  Woods  and  Tamalpais.  But  I 
don't  feel  like  it  now." 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  469 

Her  mother  assented  with  an  indifferent,  "Yes.  I  don't  feel 
much  like  doing  more  than  we  have  to  do,  myself." 

Hester's  pregnancy  was  a  difficult  one,  even  painful  at  times. 
She  had  weathered  the  nausea  period  but  now  came  weakness,  a 
lassitude,  to  which  her  former  lassitude  was  a  mere  shadow; 
definite  pain  and  discomfort.  She  had  soon  after  her  arrival 
put  her  case  into  the  hands  of  a  physician.  He  came  at  rare  inter 
vals  to  see  how  she  was  progressing.  He  did  not  seem  perturbed 
by  her  condition.  In  answer  to  Mrs.  Crowell's  questions,  he  stated 
that  all  this,  though  uncomfortable,  was  normal  enough.  Some 
women  had  easy  pregnancies,  some  difficult  ones.  The  latter 
seemed  to  have  no  bad  effects  on  the  children.  Hester  bore  her 
suffering  with  a  fortitude  that  never  broke  or  wavered.  It  did 
not  add,  however,  to  the  meagre  cheer  of  their  situation. 


CHAPTEE  V 

THEIR  neighbour  in  the  other  half  of  the  house,  with  whom 
they  maintained  a  decent  civility,  asked  them  once  if  they  had 
been  to  Chinatown.  To  her,  Hester  said  no,  and  to  her  mother, 
she  added,  "  Well,  isn't  it  strange  that  I  should  have  forgotten 
all  about  there  being  a  Chinatown  here.  Somehow  it  just  went 
out  of  my  mind." 

They  went  to  Chinatown  that  night  after  their  early  simple 
dinner.  They  arrived  just  as  the  lights  came  up.  They  stayed 
until  after  eleven  o'clock.  Finding  all  the  elements  of  an  enter 
tainment  as  picturesque  as  though  it  had  been  premeditated,  they 
continued  to  go  to  Chinatown,  night  after  night.  It  had  a  curious 
effect  on  Mrs.  Crowell;  it  brought  her  out  of  the  stupefied 
lethargy  into  which  she  had  fallen ;  for  the  first  time  she  began  to 
talk.  Her  memories  of  Shayneford  went  much  farther  back  than 
the  thirty  years  in  which  she  had  lived  there — to  over  a  half- 
century,  indeed,  when  she  had  first  gone  there  as  a  child.  Sea- 
captains,  active  and  retired,  were  plentiful  on  the  Cape  then. 
On  their  return  trips,  they  brought  great  chests  of  Chinese 
treasure.  Sometimes  they  brought  back  Chinese  servants. 

Passing  the  goldsmiths'  windows  where  the  manufacture  of  gold 
and  jade  and  pearl  jewelry  was  going  on  under  their  eyes,  Mrs. 
Crowell  said,  "  Cap'n  Eli  Snow  brought  Mrs.  Snow  a  handsome 
set  of  that  jewelry  once  from  one  of  his  voyages — a  necklace 
and  earrings  and  pins  and  a  ring.  I  think  Mis'  Snow  left  it 
to  Lucy  Arabella."  Exploring  the  strange  shops,  the  commonest 
remark  that  came  from  her  was  something  like,  "  Cap'n  Sam 
Bassett  brought  a  lot  of  that  blue  china  home  once.  Maria 
Bassett  never  would  use  it  though — so  afraid  she'd  break  a  piece 
of  it.  Kept  it  for  years  in  her  china  cabinet.  And  then  when  she 
died  Rob's  wife  got  it.  Milly  didn't  have  any  idea  of  saving 
that  or  anything  else.  She  used  it  every  day.  Those  servants 
she  brought  on  from  New  York  broke  it  as  though  it  wasn't  worth 
anything.  I  don't  believe  in  hoarding  things  up  for  other  folks 
to  enjoy";  or,  "Mrs.  Admeh  Tobey  had  a  whole  set  "of  those 
ivory  elephants  once.  When  you  were  a  little  girl  and  I  used  to 
take  you  there  to  call,  you  were  just  possessed  to  play  with  them. 
She  always  wanted  to  let  you — she's  an  awful  indulgent  thing 

470 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  471 

with  children — but  I  wouldn't  have  it.  I  was  afraid  you'd  break 
one  of  them  " ;  or,  "  Land,  how  that  teakwood  furniture  takes  me 
back.  Cap'n  Ike  Nye  had  a  whole  dining-room  full." 

It  was  Mrs.  Crowell  who  first  suggested  that  they  have  some 
chop  suey.  And  once  inside  the  clean-looking  Occidentalised 
restaurant,  she  scrutinised  carefully  the  food  served  to  other  cus 
tomers.  She  began  to  recognise  the  strange  dishes  that  she  had 
enjoyed  in  Cape  Cod  houses,  food  prepared  by  a  China  boy  in  a 
New  England  kitchen.  "  Oh,  I  remember  that  soup,"  she  said, 
"  with  those  great  leaves  floating  round  in  it.  It's  delicious.  I 
have  had  that  chow  mee — lots  of  times.  And  it's  good.  The  next 
time  we  come  down  here,  let's  have  some  of  that  mock  duck.  You 
have  no  idea  how  delicious  it  is.  I've  always  liked  Chinese  food." 

"  Well,  mother,  there's  no  reason  why  we  shouldn't  come  down 
here  two  or  three  times -a  week,"  Hester  offered.  "Or  oftener  if 
you  like.  We  can  eat  cheaper  here  than  at  home." 

They  went  to  Chinatown  constantly  thereafter.  Gradually  they 
picked  up  stray  pieces  of  china,  warmly  decorated;  bits  of 
colour  in  the  form  of  prints,  embroidery,  bric-a-brac.  All  this 
mitigated  the  dreary  bareness  of  their  rooms;  insensibly  they 
began  to  take  on  a  look  of  homeliness  and  comfort. 

But  much  as  she  interested  herself  in  the  shopping  and  the 
eating,  it  was  to  the  Chinatown  scene  that  Mrs.  Crowell  gave  her 
fullest  attention.  The  vegetable  shops,  meat  shops,  fish  shops, 
crowded  with  familiar  wares  in  strange  shapes;  the  side  streets 
papered  for  intervals  with  scarlet  posters  covered  with  black 
Chinese  letters;  toddling  babies  in  their  ugly  combinations  of 
American  and  Chinese  clothes;  the  little  pastel-coloured,  silk-clad, 
coated-and-trousered  girls  with  ornaments  of  gold  and  jade  in  their 
sleek  hair;  the  elderly  women  in  black,  convoying  groups  of  gentle 
children ;  the  constant  procession  of  men  in  all  possible  variations 
of  Oriental  and  Occidental  wear — Mrs.  Crowell  drank  the.  scene 
down.  It  was  as  though,  having  cast  all  the  associations  of  her 
past  life  overboard,  she  were  trying  to  fill  out  the  shape  of  her 
soul  with  a  new  cargo,  a  cargo  which  should  make  up  in  the  degree 
of  its  colour  and  strangeness  for  all  the  lost  greynesses  and 
familiarities. 

"  It  seems  queer,  mother,"  Hester  remarked  once,  "  to  think  of 
Shayneford  now,  the  quiet  of  it  all — the  big  elms,  the  sleepy 
streets,  the  lonely  houses." 

"  I  feel,"  her  mother  said  grimly,  "  as  though  I'd  died  and 
come  to  life  in  another  world." 

"  Do  you  like  this  world,  mother  ? "  Hester  asked  timidly. 


472  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  I  don't  know.  I'm  not  thinking  about  that.  It  isn't  a  ques 
tion  of  whether  I  like  it  or  not.  It's  forced  on  me.  I  take  it 
as  it  comes." 

The  trip  across  the  Continent  had  been  a  drain,  taken  with 
Hester's  long  stay  in  New  York,  on  the  slender  resources  of  the 
two  women.  They  involved  themselves  in  no  unnecessary  ex 
pense  now.  Theatres,  concerts,  lectures  knew  them  not.  An 
occasional  picture-show  was  the  height  of  their  dissipation.  Books 
and  magazines  were  also  proscribed.  Literature  came  to  them 
through  their  one  newspaper.  They  had  happened  by  accident  to 
choose  the  most  radical  of  the  city  journals  and,  partly  because 
of  the  hunger  of  a  literature-starved  consciousness  and  partly 
through  the  interest  of  the  thing  itself,  they  read  this  paper 
carefully  from  beginning  to  end.  Insensibly  they  came  to  know 
San  Francisco,  the  seething  quality  of  its  social  life,  the  virility 
of  its  labour  movement;  the  intensity  of  its  politics;  the  en 
lightened  activity  of  its  enfranchised  women :  insensibly  they  came 
to  realise  the  picturesqueness  of  a  people  who  flash  from  an  athletic 
outdoor  day  life  to  a  gorgeous  restaurant  night  life  and  who  enter 
tain  themselves  with  pageant,  fiesta,  and  carnival  somewhere  in 
between. 

But  as  for  the  boiling  city  life  itself,  it  passed  the  two  lonely 
women  as  completely  as  though  they  were  an  island  and  it  the 
ocean  which  surrounded  them.  Their  neighbours  in  the  other 
half  of  the  house,  their  butcher,  their  grocer,  their  cobbler,  the 
boy  who  brought  their  paper,  the  waiter  who  served  them  in 
Chinatown — this  was  the  list  of  their  human  affiliations.  Twice 
Hester  suggested  that  her  mother  go  to  church,  but  the  second 
time  Mrs.  Crowell  rejected  this  idea  with  so  steadfast  a  grimness 
that  Hester  never  alluded  to  it  again.  A  little  cooking,  a  little 
sewing,  a  little  gardening,  talk  on  what  was  obvious  and  of  the 
moment — the  program  of  one  day  did  not  differ  from  that  of 
another.  This  monotony  was  not  even  stirred  by  the  mail.  Mrs. 
Crowell  had  announced  that  she  was  going  to  break  off  all  con 
nection  with  Shayneford  for  the  time  being.  She  had  written  to 
nobody.  Hester  had  not  even  sent  the  letters  she  had  spoken  of 
writing  to  Southward  and  John. 

In  the  meantime,  the  golden,  rainless,  sun-charged  California 
summer  merged  with  the  drab-coloured,  rainless,  still-sunny 
California  fall.  The  rains  began  to  come.  And  the  hills  which 
had  turned  from  gold  to  grey  became  green  in  a  night.  The 
tangled  garden  which  by  this  time  Mrs.  Crowell  had  cleaned  out 
completely  put  on  new  growths. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  473 

"  Seems  queer  to  have  everything  starting  up  at  the  approach  of 
winter,"  Mrs.  Crowell  commented.  "  What  a  strange  country !  " 

The  rainy  season  that  year  was  of  unexampled  copiousness, 
fury,  and  duration.  The  sun  seemed  to  disappear  for  good.  Day 
after  day,  they  stared  out  on  a  sodden  world.  And  now  they 
were  giving  up  their  excursions  to  Chinatown,  mainly  because 
of  the  weather.  Also,  Hester's  time  was  approaching. 

There  was  no  abatement  towards  the  end  of  her  suffering  and 
discomfort ;  rather  it  increased.  Great  hollows  encircled  her  eyes. 
Weights  of  pain  and  anguish  pulled  down  the  corners  of  her 
mouth.  Her  pallor  was  not  white  but  leaden.  She  dragged 
about  the  garden  when  the  weather  permitted,  sat  during  the 
rains  for  long  periods  gazing  out  the  window.  But  if  unhappi- 
ness  ever  formed  words  of  regret  upon  her  lips,  her  will  never 
permitted  them  to  pass. 

One  day,  she  and  her  mother  were  sitting  outside  together. 
It  was  a  little  past  the  middle  of  December  and  they  had  had  two 
days  of  unexpected  sunshine  and  warmth.  For  a  while  they  had 
entertained  themselves  with  the  new  family  that  Tabby  had  re 
cently  produced.  Now  they  sat  silent,  watching  the  many  ferry 
boats  charging  across  the  bay  like  peacocks  who  dragged  after 
them  great  thick  tails  of  white  feathers.  The  sun  began  to  dim 
and  pulling  their  wraps  about  them,  they  watched  one  of  the  bay 
fogs  creep  in  from  the  ocean,  blot  out  the  hill  country  across  the 
water,  and  take  possession  of  the  city.  Hester  arose  presently  and 
went  into  the  house.  Her  mother  still  stayed;  still  apathetically 
watched  this  aerial  siege. 

"  Mother,  Mother ! "  Hester's  voice  called  suddenly.  It  had  a 
new  note  in  it,  command  that  was  pointed  by  expectancy  and 
even  touched  with  relief.  "  Come  here  quick !  " 

Her  mother  arose  swiftly  and,  more  swiftly  still,  ran  into  the 
house. 

"  It's  come,  mother,"  Hester  said,  "  I've  been  in  pain  all  the 
time  I  sat  there  in  the  garden.  But  I  couldn't  believe  it.  I've 
suffered  so,  I  was  afraid  I  was  fooling  myself." 

Her  face  contracted  as  a  violent  paroxysm  seized  her. 

"  There,  there !  I  guess  there's  no  doubt.  You'd  better  call  Dr. 
Cartwright  at  once." 


CHAPTER  VI 

MRS.  CROWELL  sat  in  her  daughter's  bedroom  holding  her 
grandson  in  her  arras.  Hester  was  asleep  and  so  was  her  child. 
But  Mrs.  Crowell  was  very  wide-awake  indeed.  Her  big,  old  eyes, 
unusually  brilliant  in  a  deep  setting  of  shadow,  flew  from  the 
baby's  face  to  Hester's,  from  Hester's  back  to  the  baby's.  Occa 
sionally  she  bent  forward  and  deposited  a  little  soundless  kiss  on 
the  wrinkled  red  forehead  at  her  shoulder;  but  the  baby  slept 
on.  Once  or  twice,  she  moved  noiselessly  from  bed  to  window, 
but  Hester,  utterly  relaxed,  slept  on  also.  After  a  while,  Mrs. 
Crowell  went  silently  out  of  the  room,  deposited  the  baby  in  his 
crib  in  her  own  chamber.  When  she  came  back,  Hester's  eyes, 
still  sleep-filled,  were  half-open. 

"  Is  the  baby  awake,  mother  ? "  Hester  asked. 

"  No,"  her  mother  answered,  "  sleeping  soundly.  I  never  saw 
such  a  good  child  for  sleeping." 

Hester's  lips  curved  into  a  smile.  "  I  like  to  have  you  call  him, 
'  child.'  It  sounds  so  much  more  permanent  than  '  baby.' " 

"  Well,  he's  certainly  a  permanent-looking  child,"  Mrs.  Crowell 
commented  with  a  kind  of  grim  pride.  "  He's  an  awful  big  fellow. 
I  suppose  you  don't  realise,  because  the  doctor  says  it  was  a 
normal  birth.  But  a  twelve-pound  baby  is  a  big  baby." 

"  I  realise  something,"  Hester  showed  a  touch  of  her  mother's 
grimness.  "  I  feel  as  though  I'd  lost  twenty-four  pounds.  Sit 
down,  mother.  I  want  to  talk  to  you." 

Mrs.  Crowell  sat  down  but  it  was  as  though  under  protest.  "  I 
don't  know  as  I'd  do  much  talking,  Hester,"  she  remonstrated. 

"  I  won't,"  Hester  answered  docilely,  "  but  I  do  feel  like  talking 
a  little,  especially  since  it's  so  long  now  that  I  haven't  talked.  I've 
kept  silence  all  these  months,  mother,  for  the  baby's  sake  and 
for  my  own.  But  now  I  want  to  tell  you  something  about  it  all, 
so  that  we  can  go  on  with  our  new  life  together  on  a  different  basis 
— without  suspicions  or  misunderstandings." 

"  I  don't  know  that  there's  any  call  for  you  to  tell  me  anything 
further,"  her  mother  announced  stiffly.  "  Perhaps  in  the  begin 
ning — well,  I  don't  say  but  what  it  would  have  relieved  my  mind 

some.    But  now  the  thing's  over  and  done  with " 

474 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  475 

"  But  I  want  to  tell  you,  mother,"  Hester  said  bearing  down 
on  the  word  want. 

"  Tell  me  when  you  get  well,"  her  mother  evaded. 

"  I  want  to  tell  you  now."  There  was  a  hysteric  element  in 
Hester's  stress  of  the  word  now.  "  It's  here  to  be  said  and  I  must 
say  it.  It's  in  me  and  it  must  out.  I  can't  wait.  I  want  to  get 
it  over  with."  Her  tone  became  a  little  wild. 

"  All  right,"  her  mother  decided  after  a  reflective  instant.  "  Go 
on!  I'm  listening." 

Hester  went  on  and  with  an  unexpected  composure  into  which 
her  wildness  suddenly  simmered.  "  I  don't  know  what  you've  been 
thinking  all  these  months,  mother,  but  I  can  guess  some  of  it. 
I  can  guess  some,  but  not  all.  I  wonder  if  you  think  I'm  really 
what  you  call  a  bad  girl,  that  I've  done  that  sort  of  thing  always 
or  often,  or  that  I  care  for  promiscuity  or  that  I'd  like  that  kind 
of  life.  If  you  believe  any  of  these  things,  you  are  wrong.  It's 
not  true.  And  yet  if  not  blaming  myself  much  is  bad,  then  I  am 
bad.  For  as  I  look  back  on  my  life — and,  oh,  I've  been  studying 
it  hard  these  last  nine  months — I  feel  that  I'm  not  so  very  much 
to  blame.  Sometimes  I  pity  myself.  Sometimes  it  seems  to  me 
even  that  it  had  to  be.  You  see  the  trouble  started  with  my  being 
the  daughter  of  a  woman  who  had  been  a  beauty  and  yet  not 
being  beautiful  or  attractive  myself.  So  many  lives  are  wrong 
— especially  women's  lives.  I  see  now  in  the  light  of  my  own 
life  how  wrong  your  life  was.  Here  you  were,  a  woman  loving 
life  and  gaiety,  music,  theatres,  excitement,  and  people  about 
you,  condemned  to  live  in  a  little  dead  country  village.  That 
life  hurt  you,  maimed  you.  You  aren't  now  at  all  the  woman 
you  would  have  been  if  you'd  been  placed  in  the  proper  environ 
ment.  But  you  didn't  learn  by  your  own  experience;  for  you 
made  the  same  mistake  with  me.  I  have  never  had  the  proper 
environment.  It  was  all  natural  enough,  perhaps.  I  was  a  disap 
pointment  to  you  and  you  never  tried  to  conceal  it  from  me.  On 
the  other  hand.  Bee  was  a  delight  to  you  as  she  was  to  me.  You 
loved  her  with  all  your  heart  and  so  did  I.  All  the  affection 
that  had  been  starved  out  of  both  of  us,  we  put  into  her.  Then 
Baby  Bee  came.  We  were  both  happy,  you  and  I.  I  didn't 
really  start  to  be  definitely  unhappy  until  they  died.  But  after 
that — well,  mother,  you  will  never  know  how  I  suffered  as  I  shall 
probably  never  realise  how  much  you  suffered.  But  I  did  suffer 
— horribly — horribly " 

Her  mother  started  to  rise.  "Don't  think  of  it  any  more, 
Hester.  Try  to  go  to  sleep." 


476  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

"  I  don't  want  to  go  to  sleep,  mother.  I  want  to  talk.  I  want 
to  tell  you  all  about  it."  Hester's  eyes  had  shed  all  the  dews  of 
her  rest;  they  shone  with  an  unsteady  gleam.  A  faint  colour 
fluttered  back  and  forth  'in  her  white  cheeks.  "  You  know  well 
enough  what  a  disappointment  I  was  to  you.  But  you  don't  know 
what  a  disappointment  I  was  to  myself.  I  had  never  thought 
of  myself  as  pretty  while  I  was  growing  up;  indeed,  I  knew 
very  well  that  I  was  not  even  ordinarily  good-looking.  I  was 
the  kind  of  girl  of  whom  everybody  said,  'but  she  has  beautiful 
hair.'  Oh,  how  I  clung  to  the  thought  of  my  hair,  my  single 
beauty.  Yes,  I  know  just  as  well  as  anybody  else  how  plain  I 
was.  People  didn't  have  to  tell  me  that — but  they  did  tell  me 
it  in  a  variety  of  ways.  They  tortured  me  with  it.  But  some 
how  from  my  littlest  girlhood,  I  took  it  for  granted  that  I'd  marry 
some  day  and  have  children  of  my  own — a  lot  of  them — a  big, 
big  family.  Somehow  I  was  perfectly  sure  that  I  was  going  to 
have  babies  just  as  fast  as  I  could  have  them.  I  hoped  they 
would  be  beautiful,  but  I  knew  they  couldn't  all  be  so,  and,  oh, 
how  loving  and  tender  I  was  going  to  be  with  the  plain  ones, 
so  that  they  would  never  know  that  they  were  plain.  I  took 
marriage  and  motherhood  just  as  much  for  granted  as  I  did 
breathing.  I  thought  everybody  got  married  and  everybody  had 
children.  Well — you  know  what  my  girlhood  was  like.  Men 
never  took  any  notice  of  me  whatever.  I  didn't  mind  that  so 
much  on  the  score  of  vanity,  for,  God  knows,  I  had  as  little 
vanity  as  any  woman  who  was  ever  born.  But  it  hurt  me  terribly 
when  I  saw  what  a  disappointment  it  was  to  you.  When  I  used 
to  go  to  parties  that  the  girls  gave  and  they  played  kissing 
games,  I  used  to  pray  that  one  of  the  boys  would  choose  me — 
only  one — because  it  seemed  to  me  I  would  die  of  mortification 
if  you  heard  that  I  was  the  only  girl  there  who  was  not  kissed. 
I  can't  remember  now  when  it  was  that  it  first  occurred  to  me 
that  maybe  no  man  would  ever  want  to  marry  me.  I  think  I  was 
about  twenty.  From  twenty  to  thirty  was  one  long  misery  that 
I  know,  all  my  life,  I  shall  hate  to  look  back  on — the  gradually 
growing  certainty  that  whatever  it  was  that  other  women  had 
about  them  that  attracted  men,  I  didn't  have  it.  I  didn't  know 
how  to  get  it;  for  I  didn't  know  what  it  was.  I  have  never  flirted 
in  my  life.  I  never  had  any  instinctive  coquetries.  From  the 
beginning,  I  have  never  been  able  to  talk  to  a  man  except  as  one 
human  being  to  another.  I  can't  think  of  him  as  a  sexed  crea 
ture  first.  And  then  as  I  began  slowly  to  realise  that,  although 
I  wanted  to  attract  somebody — and  I  had  my  moments  when  I 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  477 

thought  almost  anybody  would1  do — I  didn't  have  the  faintest 
degree  of  charm  for  men,  it  made  me  self-conscious,  awkward, 
tongue-tied.  Sometimes  I  met  men  whom  I  would  have  enjoyed 
talking  with,  but  they  never  seemed  to  see  me  at  all.  I  mean 
literally  they  did  not  seem  to  see  me.  It  was  as  though  I  wasn't 
there.  I've  been  at  parties  with  Pearl  and  Pinkie  and  Flora, 
when  they  were  flirting  with  men,  and  it  was  just  as  though  a 
transparent  curtain  had  come  down  between  them  and  me.  I 
was  with  them  but  not  of  them.  I  could  see  and  hear  and 
understand  everything  they  were  doing  and  saying  but  they 
didn't  even  know  I  was  there.  And  so  it  went  on.  I  began  to 
have  periods  of  despair." 

Her  mother  interposed  again.  "  Hester,  I'm  going  out  of  this 
room.  You  must  control  yourself.  It  will  affect  your  milk — all 
this  excitement — and  the  baby'll  suffer." 

"  Stay  here,  mother !  "  Hester  said  in  a  low  tone  of  command. 
"  If  you  go,  I  shall  talk  just  the  same.  Only  I'll  have  to  shout 
in  order  to  make  you  hear  me.  What  I'm  going  to  say,  is  like  the 
baby.  It's  got  to  be  born.  It's  started  and  nobody  can  hold  it 
back." 

That  wild  light  in  Hester's  eyes  had  steadied  to  a  permanent 
glow.  That  flicker  of  colour  had  beaten  to  a  changeless  flame. 
She  went  on : 

"  John  Smith  appeared  in  Shayneford.  And  then  came  my 
one  little  triumph.  He  was  the  handsomest  and  ablest  and  kind 
est,  the  most  graceful  and  charming  and  distinguished  man  that 
I  had  ever  met.  I  fell  in  love  with  him.  You  know  that.  But 
what  you  don't  know  is  that  he  fell  in  love  with  me.  I've  never 
told  anybody  that.  But  it  is  true.  He  fell  in  love  with  me. 
The  only  man  I  ever  really  wanted — and  the  finest  man  I  ever 
met — fell  in  love  with  me.  I  knew  it  the  instant  it  happened.  I 
knew  it  before  he  knew  it.  I  could  not  believe  my  own  intuition 
at  first.  I  thought  I  believed  it  only  because  I  wanted  to  believe 
it.  But  after  a  while,  I  had  to  believe  it.  From  the  beginning 
though,  subconsciously,  I  knew  that  there  was  something  wrong. 
I  didn't  know  that  consciously  though  for  a  long  time.  And 
then  gradually  I  had  to  recognise  that  truth,  that  there  was 
some  obstacle  between  us.  And  in  New  York — oh,  I  had  a 
wonderful  time  in  New  York.  I  was  with  him  more  and  more 
until  in  the  spring  we  were  so  much  together  that  it  was  almost 
like  a  honeymoon.  Oh,  those  long  wonderful  days  and  those  long 
beautiful  evenings!  I  shall  never  forget  them.  I  couldn't  forget 
them  if  I  tried.  They  will  be  fresh  and  warm  in  my  memory 


478  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

when  I  lie  in  my  tomb.  I  don't  think  now  that  he  would  ever 
have  told  me  that  he  loved  me  if  I  hadn't  provoked  it  from  him. 
I  didn't  exactly  mean  to  do  that.  But  when  I  realised  that  he 
loved  me,  a  certain  power  came  to  me,  a  power  that  I  had 
never  had,  the  power  to  coquet.  .  And  once  I  used  it — just  once. 
All  in  an  instant,  I  provoked  him  to  that  declaration.  •  And  then 
everything  came  out.  He  did  love  me — as  I  had  guessed.  I  was 
the  only  woman  in  the  world  for  him.  I  was  the  culmination 
of  his  whole  Jife.  But  he  couldn't  marry  me.  There  was  an 
obstacle." 

She  paused  and  her  face  contracted.  Her  mother  arose.  "  I 
think  I  heard  the  baby  cry,"  she  said,  "I'll  be  back  in  a  moment." 
She  disappeared  but  she  returned  presently.  Hester  took  up  her 
narrative  just  where  she  had  left  it. 

"  All  the  time  I  stayed  in  New  York,  I  had  been  having  a 
curious  series  of  experiences.  I  suppose  it  was  my  own  sensi 
tiveness  to  the  subject  but  everybody  seemed  to  be  talking  about 
motherhood.  The  night  we  arrived,  John  and  Dwight  took  us 
to  a  meeting  of  a  Socialist  Local.  When  we  came  in,  a  young 
girl  was  making  a  speech.  At  first  I  could  not  believe  my  ears. 
She  was  talking  about  motherhood  and  she  said  that  the  right 
to  bear  children  was  inalienable  to  any  healthy  normal  woman 
— that  marriage  or  morality  or  religion  had  nothing  to  do  with 
it.  I  had  never  heard  such  ideas  and  the  first  effect  of  her 
speech  was  actually  to  frighten  me.  I  trembled  for  an  hour  after 
wards.  But  I  thought  of  what  she  said — and  thought  of  it — and 
thought  of  it — and  thought  of  it.  It  haunted  me  and  after  a  while 

I  began And  then  I  kept  meeting  women  who  were  the 

result  of  motherhood,  wrong,  thwarted  motherhood  or  the  complete 
absence  of  it.  And  oh,  how  I  pitied  them.  How  I  hated  to  think 
I  might  grow  to  be  like  them.  Just  derelicts  floating  on  an 
uneasy  sea  of  experience,  never  getting  to  any  real  port  of  life 
— marriage  or  maternity.  There  was  Edith  Hale.  She  was 
thwarted  by  her  very  love  of  luxury,  comfort,  beauty,  ease, 
devotion  to  her  own  figure.  There  was  Rena  Osgood,  a  nurse. 
She  loved  children  just  as  much  as  I  did  and  wanted  them  as 
much.  But  she  had  had  to  undergo  a  severe  operation  and  that 
operation  made  maternity  forever  impossible.  There  was  Mrs. 
Pelham,  a  widow.  She  was  the  only  one  in  that  group  who  had 
had  a  child.  He  lived  to  manhood  and  then  died,  lost  in  a  desert. 
It  nearly  killed  her.  Oh,  how  I  pitied  her.  I  told  her  once  that 
it  seemed  to  me  I  would  rather  not  have  had  him.  She  said 
no — no — no.  She  said  that  that  was  the  one  consolation  of  her 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  479 

life  that  she  had  had  him.  And  that  they  had  had  those  twenty 
years  together.  She  wouldn't  give  up  the  memory  of  that  for 
anything.  She  would  never  have  been  the  woman  she  was,  with 
out  it.  And  there  was  something  different  about  her.  She  had 
something  that  we  others  didn't  have.  I  don't  know  what  it  was 
or  how  to  describe  it,  but  there  it  was,  as  plain  to  me  as  though 
it  were  a  golden  star  set  in  her  forehead.  And  then  there  was 
an  old,  old  lady,  nearly  ninety,  a  Mrs.  Edgerley,  a  woman  suf 
fragist — who  used  to  come  down  from  an  apartment  above  to 
talk  suffrage  to  me.  Oh,  she  was  such  a  wonderful  old  lady. 
She'd  been  in  that  work  all  her  life,  though  she  had  brought  up 
a  large  family  of  children  too.  I  could  see  that  one  had  helped 
the  other.  She  tried  to  make  me  march  in  the  parade,  to  convert 
me.  But  I  never  could  seem  to  think  or  care  about  suffrage, 
although  I  could  see  what  happiness  it  had  brought  into  her  life, 
believing  in  something  with  all  her  heart  and  soul  and  working 
for  it  with  all  her  mind  and  body.  It  had  brought  happiness 
into  her  children's  lives  too.  There  was  her  daughter,  a  Mrs. 
Fanshawe — she  had  seven  children,  a  pair  of  twins  among  them. 
She'd  grown  up  believing  in  woman  suffrage  and  she'd  worked  for 
it  all  her  life.  Worked  for  it  just  as  naturally  as  she  had  for 
those  seven  children.  I  used  to  try  my  hardest  to  get  interested 
in  it;  for  of  course  I  believed  in  it.  But  I  couldn't  do  it;  nor 
in  any  other  movement,  even  those  that  John  and  Ripley  were 
working  for.  They  tried  to  interest  me  too.  They  tried  to  make 
me  read  books.  But  somehow,  I  couldn't  seem  to  get  my  mind  on 
those  things." 

"  Hester,  don't  you  think  you'd  better  stop  talking  now  ? "  her 
mother  pleaded. 

"  Not  till  I've  had  my  say,"  Hester  answered  inflexibly.  "  All 
these  things  had  been  turning  over  and  over  in  my  head.  I 
didn't  keep  them  there.  I  didn't  know  that  some  of  them  were 
there.  And  the  others  I  tried  to  get  rid  of.  But  they  stayed. 
When  John  told  me  there  was  an  obstacle — I — I'm  not  going  to 
tell  you  what  that  obstacle  was.  It's  not  my  secret.  It's  his. 
It  wasn't  a  wife  or  a  mistress.  In  a  way  it  was  more  binding 
than  either  of  those.  I  saw  that  it  was  hopeless,  that  we  could 
never  be  married.  I  realised  that  I  must  give  him  up — give  him 
up  completely  and  give  him  up  at  once.  And  then — I  thought 
of  everything  before — even  suicide.  But  I  couldn't.  And  yet — 
all  I  knew  was  that  something  had  to  happen  or  I  would  drop 
back  into  an  unhappiness  even  more  dreadful  than  I  had  ever 
known.  And  I  thought — and  I  thought — and  then — the  idea  came. 


480  THE  LADY  OP  KINGDOMS 

I  knew  I  would  have  to  do  it  at  once  or  not  at  all.  I  knew  I 
would  have  to  do  it  when  I  was  so  desperately  unhappy  that  it 
was  as  though  it  happened  to  somebody  else.  I  knew  if  I  waited 
until  I  had  accustomed  myself  to  life  without  him,  I  never 
could — that  I'd  love  his  memory  too  much.  I  knew  that  I  must 
act  quick — as  one  steals  or  murders.  And  so  one  night,  I  put 
paint  on  my  face  and  long  earrings  in  my  ears  and  I  went  out 
— and  I  went  up  to  the  Grand  Central  Station — and  I  stood  there 
— and  waited — and  waited — and  waited — and  I  looked  at  all  the 
men  as  they  passed — I  looked  carefully — and  most  of  them  seemed 
horrible  to  me.  And  at  last  there  came  along  a  great  big  country 
hoy  with  cheeks  like  apples — and  red  hair — and  nice  frank  eyes — 
with  that  look  the  country  gives — of  cleanness — he  looked  like 
Lysander  a  little — and — and — and — I  spoke  to  him — and — and — 
we  went  together — and  that  next  morning  he  told  me  he  was 
going  to  Washington — and  I  suggested  that  I  go  too — paying 

my   own   way — as  I  had  never   seen   Washington He  said 

yes,  come — he  didn't  have  much  money — he  was  going  to  do  his 
travelling  as  cheaply  as  possible — you  see  I  wanted  to  make  sure 
— and — and — and  so  I  went  and  I  was  gone  three  weeks  in 
Washington  and  Baltimore  and  Richmond.  Of  course  it  all  seems 
horrible  to  you — perhaps  it  was  horrible — but  it  was  not  horrible 
to  me — it  was  very  simple — oh,  very  simple.  And  yet  all  the  time 
— I  was  in  love  with  another  man.  But  I  liked  that  boy — he 
was  kind  and  considerate  in  a  simple  boyish  way — I  could  never 
have  fallen  in  love  with  him — but  I  liked  him — and  respected 
him.  We  used  to  talk  about  the  things  we  were  seeing — and 
about  his  life  in  the  country.  I  made  him  talk  about  country 
things — the  farmhouse  and  the  live  stock — I  knew  every  animal 
on  the  place  by  name,  and  all  their  markings.  We  had  a  kind 
of  friendship  and  I  felt  that  he  grew  to  like  me — so  much  so — 
that  in  the  end  I  slipped  away — without  letting  him  know  I  was 
going — I  just  disappeared.  He  never  knew  anything  about  me — 
not  even  my  name.  He  never  will  know.  Perhaps  some  day  he 
will  realise  that  he  had  a  strange  experience.  And  then  I  came 
back  to  New  York  and  waited — and  waited — and  waited.  Oh, 
I  was  so  afraid  that  I  had  failed.  There  was  only  one  terror 
in  my  life — the  fear  that  I  had  failed.  And  then  I  went  to  the 
doctor  and  he  said  it  was  true.  That  day — that  day — when  I  came 
out  of  his  office  onto  the  street — I  heard  music.  I  went  over  to 
the  Avenue  and  found  the  suffrage  parade  had  just  started  and  I 
stood  there  from  three  in  the  afternoon  until  eight  at  night  and 
watched  that  parade.  And  then  it  came  to  me  as  I  looked  at  those 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  481 

women — oh,  and  some  had  such  happy,  happy  faces — that  I  ought 
to  have  been  with  them — marching  and  fighting  too.  I  ought  to 
have  been  having  children  and  working  with  them  just  as  Mrs. 
Edgerley  had  and  Mrs.  Fanshawe  was  doing.  But  my  life  was 
wasted.  I  had  been  born  with  the  maternal  craving — I  wanted  to 
be  a  mother — it  didn't  come  about  naturally  for  me  to  have 
children — and  so  all  the  best  years  of  my  life  and  the  best  energy 
had  gone  to  fighting  that  craving.  Other  things  had  happened  to 
make  it  worse,  and  so  I  was  like  a  creature  caught  in  a  net  and 
struggling  there.  All  about  me  were  great  world  movements — 
and  I  couldn't  get  into  one  of  them — because  I  wao  all  tangled 
up  in  that  net.  Life  does  that.  It  did  it  to  you  in  a  different 
way — and  to  poor  Pearl  who  couldn't  get  into  right  relations 
with  people  because  she  loved  Lysander  so  madly.  And  it  did  it 
to  Gert  Beebee  and  Josie  Caldwell.  When  I  got  home  that  night, 
I  did  not  know  myself  when  I  looked  in  the  glass — my  face  was 
so  swollen  and  bloated.  I  had  been  crying  all  those  five  hours 
but  I  didn't  know  I  was  crying.  Well,  I  waited  two  months 
longer  in  New  York.  And  then  I  went  to  Shayneford.  I  didn't 
expect  you'd  come  out  here  with  me.  But  oh.  how  grateful  I 
was  that  you  did,  how  grateful  I  am  now!  But  don't  think, 
mother,  that  I  haven't  suffered  all  these  six  months  here.  I've 
lived  in  hell.  Do  you  suppose  I  haven't  had  my  terrors  and 
horrors — and  worse— doubts.  Sometimes  I've  been  dizzy  with 
them.  Sometimes  it's  seemed  to  me  that  I  must  throw  myself 
into  the  bay.  And  I've  often  been  so  sick — so  deathly  sick — 
and  weak.  But  something  held  me  up — I  don't  know  what.  And 
I  wouldn't  have  gone  back.  I  don't  say  that  I  did  right.  But 
I  do  say  that  when  you  put  that  baby  in  my  arms — my  own  baby 
that  I'd  gone  through  hell  to  get — everything  seemed  all  right,  I 
only  knew  that  I'd  have  gone  through  it  again  and  twenty  times 
over— to  get  him." 

"  Hester,"  her  mother  said  beseechingly. 

"  I'm  not  going  to  talk  any  more,  mother.  I  know  when  you 
went  to  the  baby  that  time,  you  called  Dr.  Cartwright.  I'd  have 
heard  my  baby  if  he'd  cried.  It  wasn't  necessary  though.  You'll 
see  when  he  comes." 

She  sank  back  among  the  pillows. 

When  Dr.  Cartwright  arrived,  she  was  sleeping  quietly,  pulse 
and  temperature  normal. 

"  She's  all  right,"  he  said.  "  That  talk  must  have  done  her 
good." 


CHAPTER  VH 

WHEN  Southward  stepped  off  the  train  into  the  little  station  at 
Essex,  she  found  waiting  there  one  dilapidated  carriage  drawn  by 
an  aged  horse  and  driven  by  a  more  aged  darkey. 

"  Take  me  to  the  Cameron  place,"  she  said  briefly. 

"  All  right,  lady,"  the  darkey  agreed  cheerfully.  He  touched 
the  old  horse  with  the  whip  and  succeeded  in  evoking  motion 
from  him.  They  ambled  through  a  heterogeneous  railroad  station 
neighbourhood  and  came  out  finally  on  a  wide  elm-bordered  main 
street.  Big  old  white-clapboarded  houses  and  big  old  red-brick 
houses  with  green  blinds  and  fan-lighted  doors,  with  gardens  and 
orchards,  made  agreeable  oases  between  groups  of  village  stores. 

Their  way  ran  past  these,  past  the  Post  Office,  the  Town  Hall, 
the  bank,  a  church  or  two,  and  what  was  apparently  the  village 
library,  to  the  other  side  of  the  town.  Here  houses  came  at  longer 
intervals.  At  last  they  stopped  at  a  big  yellow  place,  long  and 
comfortably  low,  set  back  from  the  road. 

Southward  alighted,  paid  the  driver.  She  walked  quickly  up 
the  path  and  produced  a  series  of  firm  raps  from  the  old  brass 
knocker.  She  turned  about  and  stood  absently  gazing  at  the 
scene,  the  wide  street,  the  interlacing  bare  tree  boughs,  the 
meadowlands  back  and,  beyond  all,  hills  that  were  almost  moun 
tains.  A  light  fall  of  snow  covered  everything  and  the  sun  was 
making  a  magic  glitter  on  it. 

"  What  was  you  wanting  ? "  a  voice  asked. 

Southward  turned.  A  middle-aged  woman,  her  hair  still  in 
curling  pins,  had  opened  the  door. 

",Fd  like  to  see  Mr.  Cameron,"  Southward  said. 

"  Well,  old  man  Cameron  has  jess  gone  down  to  the  village — 
you  must  have  passed  him.  Young  man  Cameron  is  in  the  back 
setting-room,  writing." 

"  It's  young  Mr.  Cameron  I  want  to  see,"  Southward  declared. 
"  I'll  go  right  in  there."  She  passed  down  the  hall.  The  woman 
stood  in  a  state  of  paralysed  dubiety  for  an  instant.  Then,  obvi 
ously  evading  the  solution  of  this  social  problem,  she  turned  into 
the  other  side  of  the  house.  Southward  continued  down  the  broad 
central-hall  to  the  back  room.  The  door  was  ajar  and  she  pushed 
it  noiselessly  open. 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  483 

Within,  seated  at  a  big  table  at  right  angles  with  the  fireplace, 
Dwight  sat  writing.  He  looked  a  very  different  man  from  the  one 
Southward  had  seen  last  in  New  York,  heavier,  more  serious. 
Perhaps  it  was  his  white  outing-shirt  whose  looseness  made  him 
seem  bigger,  and  perhaps  its  whiteness  deepened  by  contrast  a 
thick  coat  of  tan.  He  was  absorbed  in  his  work. 

Southward  came  forward.  Her  footsteps  made  no  sound 
on  the  thick  carpet.  Nothing  apprised  Dwight  of  an  alien  pres 
ence  until  she  was  almost  at  his  side.  He  looked  up.  with  a 
start. 

Then  he  did  not  speak.    Obviously  he  could  not.    He  sat,  staring. 

Southward  extended  her  hand.  It  held  her  revolver,  butt  for 
ward.  "  I've  come  to  give  you  this,  Dwight,"  she  said  quietly.  "  I 
shall  never  shoot  another  man." 

Dwight's  eyes  filled  with  tears.  But  he  looked  steadily  down 
into  Southward's  eyes,  which  gradually  filled  also.  He  took  the 
hand  that  held  the  revolver  between  both  his  own  and  drew  her 
to  him.  For  a  long  time  they  stood  silent,  their  lips  together. 
"  I  knew  you'd  come  some  day,"  Dwight  said  at  last. 

Then  Southward  drew  herself  away.  "  I've  got  something  to 
tell  you  first,  Dwight.  I've  been  in  New  York  a  month.  I've 
been  flirting  with  Morena — flirting  desperately.  I  would  like  to 
say  that  I  flirted  out  of  pique  and  that's  true,  but  not  entirely  so. 
Morena  has  always  had  a  kind  of  attraction  for  me.  For  a  long 
time  I  would  not  admit  it  to  myself.  I  do  now.  But  I'm  not 
in  love  with  him.  I'm  in  love  with  you.  Of  course  I  was  insane 
with  jealousy  when  I  found  you  with  Azile  that  time.  I  made 
up  my  mind  that  I'd  uproot  every  feeling  for  you  that  was  in  me. 
I  didn't  do  it  though.  I  couldn't.  And  when  J  went  to  New  York 
and  met  Morena  by  accident  and  he  seemed  ready  to  start  some 
thing,  I  fell  in  with  it.  And  last  night — I — very  nearly  went  over 
the  line.  I  would  have  too — if  it  hadn't  been  for  Morena.  He 
saved  me  from  myself.  He  was  fine.  He  was  splendid.  He  roused 
me  too  to  a  sense  of  where  I  was  drifting.  He  told  me  that  I 
was  in  love  with  you  and  you  were  in  love  with  me.  He  told  me 
to  go'  to  you.  I  saw  he  was  right  and  I  came  as  soon  as  I  could 
get  here.  I  love  you.  But  I  want  you  to  understand  the  situation ; 
for  it  might  make  a  difference  to  you.  I  haven't  understated  it. 
I  nearly  drifted  over  the  line.  I  nearly  did  myself  what  I  was  ready 
to  shoot  you  for  doing.  Do  you  understand  ?  " 

"  I  understand  perfectly,"  Dwight  said  steadily.  "  And  of  course 
it  makes  no  difference."  He  drew  her  to  him  again.  "  I  love  you — 
I  love  you,  Southward." 


484  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Southward  returned  his  kisses.  "  Ah,"  she  murmured,  "  men 
are  more  generous  than  women." 

"  Not  that  exactly,"  Dwight  explained,  "  it's  only  that  they 
understand."  He  held  her  off  at  arm's  length  for  a  moment  and 
looked  at  her  hard.  "  You  are  handsome,  Southward,"  he  said. 
"  I  don't  know  though  but  that  beautiful's  the  word." 

"  Of  course  beautiful's  the  word,"  Southward  maintained.  "  It's 
admitted  universally  now."  She  withdrew  herself  from  his  arms, 
seated  herself  on  the  couch  by  the  fire.  "  There's  so  much  to  talk 
about,"  she  said. 

Dwight  seated  himself  beside  her  and  their  lips  met  again. 
"  That's  true,  but  we've  got  all  eternity  to  do  it  in."  There's  really 
only  one  thing  that  we  must  settle  this  moment  and  that  is,  when 
will  you  marry  me?" 

"  As  soon  as  you  like,"  Southward  answered. 

"How  about  to-day?"  returned  Dwight.  "I  can  fix  it  up  in 
no  time.  There's  nobody  at  this  end  of  the  line  except  father  who 
really  counts.  And  he'll  be  back  in  an  hour.  We  can  be  married 
in  fifteen  minutes  in  this  very  room." 

"  I'd  love  that,"  Southward  affirmed.  "  I'd  simply  love  it.  Off 
hand  like  that.  In  the  bridegroom's  house.  They'd  say  you  mar 
ried  me  at  the  point  of  my  revolver." 

Dwight  laughed.    "  I  pretty  nearly  have." 

Southward's  mirth  glimmered.  "  That's  true.  But  though  I'd 
rather  do  that  myself,  for  Charlotte's  sake  I  must  go  home." 

"How  soon  can  it  be  then?"  Dwigiit  asked  in  a  business-like 
tone. 

Southward  cast  her  eyes  towards  the  ceiling.  She  meditated 
aloud.  "  To-day  is  Tuesday.  I'll  go  home  in  the  late  afternoon 
train.  I'll  buy  myself  a  wedding-dress  in  Boston  to-morrow. 
I  really  owe  that  wedding-dress  to  Charlotte.  And  for  her 
sake  I  may  invite  just  a  few  to  the  wedding.  Let  me  see — 
Wednesday,  Thursday,  Friday.  How  would  Saturday  at  noon 
do?" 

"All  right,"  Dwight  agreed.  "FaCier  and  I  will  be  at  Shayne- 
ford  Friday  night  at  the  latest.  In  fact  I  think  I'll  go  back  with 
you.  That's  settled."  He  sighed  contentedly. 

"  Yes,  that's  all  the  consideration  v,  e  need  to  give  that,"  South 
ward  agreed. 

They  laughed  a  little. 

"  Southward !  "  Dwight  exclaimed  abruptly,  "  about  Azile.  It 
wasn't  quite  what  you  thought ' 

"  I  know  all  about  that,"  Southward  interrupted.    "  Azile  came 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  485 

to  Shayneford  within  a  month  and  told  me  the  whole  story.  She 
took  all  the  blame  on  herself." 

"  Well — hang  it — that  wasn't  right,"  Dwight  protested. 
"  There's  no  blame  exactly — or  if  there  is,  it's  on  me.  That  was 
fine  of  her  though,"  he  added  with  an  accent  of  real  admiration. 
"  But  then  Azile  was  always  a  gentleman  and  a  true  sport." 

"  Yes,"  Southward  agreed,  "  it  was  fine.  I've  always  hated  her, 
you  know.  But  of  all  the  women  I've  ever  hated,  I  like  her  the 
best.  I  don't  suppose  I  shall  see  her  again.  She's  in  Paris  now. 
What  have  you  been  doing  all  these  months?  " 

"  Oh,  chores ;  farming,  sowing,  planting,  weeding,  harvesting, 
pitching  hay,  looking  after  the  live  stock,  and  chopping  wood.  Then 
recently  I've  done  a  lot  of  writing.  I  had  an  awful  sourballed 
session  when  I  got  up  here  first.  I  found  out  more  things  about 
myself  in  a  few  weeks  than  I'd  ever  known  before.  One  was  that 
I  wasn't  a  novelist.  You  know  those  three  partly-written  novels 
I  had.  Well,  I  made  a  bonfire  of  all  of  them.  And  I  gave  up 
then  any  idea  that  I  was  going  to  be  a  fiction-writer." 

"  I'm  glad  of  that,"  Southward  announced  frankly. 

"  Don't  gloat  too  soon,  woman,"  Cameron  checked  her.  "  I  may 
turn  out  to  be  a  writer  after  all.  In  two  months  I  wrote  and  got 
accepted  a  boys'  book  and,  believe  me,  it's  some  book.  All  about 
the  things  we  used  to  do  up  here  when  I  was  a  kid.  We  formed 
ourselves  into  rival  Indian  tribes,  and  we  used  to  wage  wars  in 
the  woods,  that  lasted  a  whole  vacation.  We  had  battles,  took 
prisoners,  exchanged  them,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  I  had  the 
time  of  my  life  writing  that  book." 

"  I'd  like  to  read  that,"  Southward  exclaimed. 

"  Don't  worry !  "  Dwight  reassured  her.    "  You'll  have  to." 

Later  he  asked  casually,  "  Want  to  go  to  South  America  ?  I  have 
Spanish,  you  know,  and  a  magazine  has  asked  me  to  do  a  series 
of  articles  dealing  with  commercial  relations  between  the  two  con 
tinents.  Not  immediately.  Sometime  within  a  year.  Would  you 
like  to  go?" 

"  Would  I  ?  "  Southward  answered.  She  added  after  a  moment's 
thought,  "  I  want  to  live  at  Long  Lanes  until  we  leave,  though — 
on  Charlotte's  account." 

"  All  right,"  Dwight  agreed.  "  One  place  suits  me  as  well  as 
another.  I  think  I  may  turn  out  another  boys'  book  in  that  time. 
You  can  help  me  on  that.  But  I  think  I'll  probably  become  an 
'  events '  man.  That  means  that  wherever  there's  trouble,  we'd  go 
to  it.  You'd  like  that,  wouldn't  you?" 

Southward  did  not  answer. 


486  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

Assuming  assent  apparently,  he  went  on.  "  I've  always  wanted 
to  see  Latin  America,  beginning  with  Mexico  and  running  south 
to  Patagonia.  Then  I'd  like  to  go  to  the  Orient  sometime,  China, 
Japan,  India,  Egypt.  You  want  to  see  those  countries,  don't 
you?" 

He  waited.     Again  Southward  was  silent. 

Again  assuming  assent,  he  sped  on.  "  And  I've  always  wanted, 
more  than  anything  else,  to  cruise  among  the  islands  of  the 
Southern  Pacific — Australia,  New  Zealand.  I  guess  when  it 
comes  to  cities  they're  pretty  much  alike  wherever  you  find  them. 
But  those  islands  would  be  different  from  anything  else  on  top  of 
the  earth,  think  of  Borneo,  for  instance.  And  Java'.  Oh,  there's. 
a  lot  of  the  world  I  want  to  see.  You  want  to  see  it,  too,  don't 
you  ? "  He  waited.  And  then  as  though  struck  for  the  first  time 
by  her  silence,  "  You  do,  don't  you  ? "  he  repeated. 

Southward  arose  and  stood  with  her  elbow  on  the  mantel.  She 
gazed  into  the  fire.  "  I  do  and  I  don't,"  she  answered.  Then  she 
transferred  her  gaze  directly  to  Dwight's  face.  "  I  do  awfully 
and  yet  I  don't  want  it  to  interfere  with  one  thing.  And  that  is — 
a  family.  I  want  a  family,  Dwight,  a  big  family.  I  don't  want 
to  do  anything  that's  going  to  get  in  the  way  of  that,  even  travel. 
And  you  don't  know  how  much  I  want  to  travel.  But  in  the  last 
year,  I've  done  a  lot  of  thinking  too.  I've  got  pretty  well  ac 
quainted  with  myself  and  I  found  out  that  I'm  not  at  all  the  kind 
of  woman  I  thought  I  was.  You  see  I  grew  up  with  the  idea  that 
I  was  different  from  ordinary  women,  that  I  had  unusual  abilities. 
I've  learned  that  I'm  not  different  at  all,  that  I  haven't  any 
special  ability  of  any  kind,  only  great  physical  strength,  vitality, 
energy,  and  an  instinct  for  efficiency.  I  suppose  the  reason  I  got 
the  idea  of  my  own  superiority  was  because  we  Drakes  have  always 
dominated  Shayneford  and  because  almost  any  girl  could  put  it 
over  the  average  girl  in  Shayneford.  When  I  went  to  New  York, 
I  found  it  was  all  different  there.  I  wasn't  a  bit  more  able  or 
interesting  than  the  run  of  women  I  was  meeting  and  not  half 
so  clever  as  many.  Why,  Dwight,  there  isn't  one  blessed  thing 
I  can  do  besides  fix  up  old  furniture,  garden,  and  dressmake  in 
the  most  primitive  manner.  But  that  isn't  all.  I've  had  a  great 
understanding  with  myself  in  regard  to  a  lot  of  other  things.  All 
my  life  I  had  seen  the  Shayneford  women  getting. married,  bringing 
large  families  into  the  world,  and  working  hard  so  that,  by  the 
time  they  reached  their  thirties,  they  were  faded,  bent,  unattrac 
tive  old  women.  I  made  up  my  mind  I  wasn't  going  to  get  caught 
by  life  that  way.  I  thought  I  was  never  going  to  marry.  I 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  487 

thought  if  I  did  marry  I  should  never  have  any  children.  I 
thought  that  for  a  long  time — until  you  came  to  Shayneford.  And 
then  things  began  to  happen  to  me." 

She  paused,  shifted  her  gaze  to  the  fire  and  then  back  to  Dwight's 
face.  Dwight  did  not  move.  He  sat  listening  intensely.  He 
looked  at  her  intently. 

"  I  met  you.  Frankly,  at  first  all  I  wanted  to  do  was  to  make  a 
conquest  of  you.  I  see  now  that  I've  always  been  pretty  ruthless 
as  far  as  men  are  concerned.  But  when  I  discovered  that  that 
wasn't  going  to  be  easy,  I  fell  in  love  with  you  as  quickly  as  any 
woman  would.  And  then  came  all  that  sense  of  rivalry  with  Azile 
Morrow,  my  certainty  that  I  had  beaten  her,  the  trip  to  Shayne 
ford,  back  to  New  York,  the  frenzy  of  rage  and  jealousy  when 
I  saw  you  together — the  shooting.  You  don't  know  what  that  did 
to  me.  I  can't  tell  you — it's  too  monumental.  I  had  shot  another 
man,  you  remember.  But  that  wasn't  such  a  terrible  thing;  that 
was  self-defence.  But  this  was  jusf  wanton  murderous  rage.  I 
didn't  know  until  the  next  day  that  I  hadn't  killed  you.  I  thought 
I  had.  During  those  hours  I  lived  in  hell.  Deep  down,  I  knew 
that  I  loved  you  with  all  my  heart.  There  was  the  grief  of  that. 
And  then  I  was  frightened  of  the  consequences.  I  wasn't  too  proud 
to  admit  my  sense  of  relief  when  the  news  came  that  you  were 
safe.  But  I  still  tried  to  make  myself  believe  that  I  hated  you. 
And  then  Azile  Morrow  came  and  did  her  best  to  exonerate  you. 
I  could  have  killed  her.  I  was  too  proud  to  forgive  you.  I  could 
not  bear  to  think — I  couldn't  stand  it — that  she  had  got  away 
with  her  game  even  for  a  moment.  But  I  continued  to  live  in  hell. 
I  suppose  that  I  very  nearly  had  nervous  breakdown.  The  quiet 
out-of-door  life  saved  me  from  that.  It  shook  toe  though — that 
experience — it  '  rocked '  me  as  Buster  Welch  would  say.  I  suppose 
all  kinds  of  queer  things  were  going  on  inside;  psychological 
changes.  One  morning  Lysander  Manning  got  me  out  of  bed  to 
come  down  and  take  care  of  Pearl  while  he  went  for  the  doctor. 
The  baby  had  just  been  born  as  I  entered  the  room.  I  had  to  help 
Mrs.  Wallis.  In  fact,  I  gave  the  baby  its  first  bath.  I  don't  know 
what  it  was,  or  what  happened  to  me.  I've  always  hated  babies 
and  this  one  looked  just  as  red  and  uninteresting  as  any  one  I've 
ever  seen.  Perhaps  it  was  because  I  felt  that  I'd  helped  in  a  way 
to  bring  it  into  the  world.  Anyway  when  I  took  it  into  my  arms, 
the  greatest  feeling  came  over  me — why,  Dwight,  I  was  wild  about 
that  child.  I  was  ashamed  of  my  feeling.  I  wouldn't  let  anybody 
know.  Nobody  guessed  it  but  Pearl.  I  went  to  see  it  every  single 
day  until  I  went  to  New  York.  And  then  it  came  to  me  that  I'd 


488  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

like  awfully  to  have  a  child  of  my  own.  I  want  sons — and  daugh 
ters  too.  I  want  a  big  family.  And  then,  there's  another  side 
of  it.  I've  got  energy  and  activity  and  vitality  enough  for  two 
women.  Without  plenty  of  work  and  plenty  of  hard  work,  I'll 
always  be  in  mischief.  I'm  as  dangerous  to  have  around  as  an 
unused  stick  of  dynamite.  I  want  children.  I  want  them  to 
come  just  as  fast  as  I  can  have  them,  so  that  my  hands  will  be 
full  all  the  time,  just  taking  care  of  them." 

Dwight  did  not  answer  for  a  moment.  But  he  still  looked  at  her 
with  an  extraordinary  tender  intentness.  "  I'm  glad  you  feel  that 
way,  Southward,"  he  said. 

Their  talk  wandered  to  their  friends. 

"  Where  is  Hester?  "  Dwight  demanded  first. 

"  I  don't  know,"  Southward  answered.  "  Nobody  knows.  She 
and  her  mother  just  vanished.  I'll  hear  some  day.  Hester'll  write. 
I  have  a  feeling  somehow  that  Hester's  married." 

From  Hester,  the  conversation  went  to  Edith,  John,  the  rest  of 
the  New  York  group;  zigzagged  to  Shayneford,  to  Mr.  Drake  and 
Lysander,  and  Pearl,  Matthew  Hallowell,  Gert  Welch. 

"And  Charlotte's  sight  is  completely  restored?"  Dwight  asked. 

"  Completely — or  nearly  so,"  Southward  answered.  "  She  thinks 
she  sees  as  well  as  I  do,  but  I  don't  think  she  does.  That  reminds 
me,  Dwight,  I  must  always  have  Charlotte  with  me  except  of 
course  when  we're  travelling.  She's  my  responsibility.  And  then 
I'm  very  fond  of  her,  as  you  will  be  in  time.  But  aside  from  that, 
it  would  be  cruel  to  send  her  anywhere  else  to  live,  no  matter  how 
well  provided  for  she  was." 

Dwight  made  an  impatient  gesture.  "  Of  course !  You  don't 
think  you've  got  to  argue  that  with  me." 

"  No.  But  I  want  you  to  understand.  I'm  going  to  tell  you 
Charlotte's  story,  Dwight.  Nobody  in  Shayneford  knew  this  except 
grandfather,  grandmother,  and  Hester.  Charlotte  is  about  forty- 
five.  When  she  was  eighteen  and  really  nothing  but  a  little  girl, 
very  innocent  and  inexperienced,  she  had  a  music  teacher,  a  man. 
He  was  much  older  than  she,  a  real  musician,  very  handsome  and 
fascinating,  people  said.  He  was  married  but  nobody  knew  it.  He 
prevailed  upon  her  to  elope  with  him.  Her  father  discovered  it 
immediately,  and  pursued  them.  They  had  been  gone  just  two 
hours  and  all  that  time  they  were  on  a  train ;  he  caught  them  as 
they  got  off.  He  took  Charlotte  home.  The  whole  story  came  out 
through  the  man's  wife.  Charlotte's  people  lived  in  a  small  town, 
but  the  gossip  was  frightful.  She  became  a  social  pariah.  It 
never  occurred  to  the  family  to  send  Charlotte  away  anywhere 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  489 

and  she  stayed  on  living  there,  under  conditions  that  make  my 
blood  boil  still,  whenever  I  think  of  them.  Charlotte  always  left 
the  room  when  callers  appeared.  Her  younger  sisters  grew  up, 
were  invited  out,  gave  parties  of  their  own,  but  Charlotte  was 
never  included  in  any  of  it.  She  was  no  more  part  of  the  family's 
social  life  than  as  though  she  were  dead.  She  lived  in  their  house 
like  a  ghost  who  was  haunting  it.  That  kept  up  for  over  ten 
years.  Then  my  grandfather  went  to  visit  them.  Of  course  he'd 
seen  enough  of  the  world  to  have  a  more  enlightened  point  of 
view  on  such  things.  Anyway  he  was  appalled  by  the  hideousness 
of  Charlotte's  situation.  He  asked  them  to  let  Charlotte  come  to 
live  with  us.  In  the  meantime  she  had  gone  blind.  Some  members 
of  her  family  looked  on  that  as  her  punishment.  My  grandmother 
told  me  Charlotte's  story  as  a  sort  of  warning,  I  fancy.  I  suppose 
that  story — of  twelve  years  of  solitary  confinement  for  a  two 
hours'  train-ride — has  done  more  to  make  me  the  kind  of  girl  I 
am  than  any  other  one  thing." 

Dwight  leaped  to  his  feet,  strode  about  the  room.  "  It's  horri 
ble,"  he  muttered,  "  horrible.  God Well,  we'll  have  to  do  our 

best  to  make  up  for  it." 

Southward  went  on.  "I'm  not  particularly  fond  of  my  sex, 
you  know.  Hester  likes  women  but  I  don't.  I  hate  most  of  them. 
All  except  a  few.  I  liked  my  grandmother.  I  like  Hester  and 
Charlotte  and  Gert  Welch,  and,  yes,  I  like  Pearl  Manning,  now. 
But  as  a  whole,  women  make  me  tired.  But  that  story  of  Char 
lotte's  is  the  reason  why,  when  I  could,  I've  worked  for  suffrage. 
Of  course  I  believe  in  the  feminist  movement.  But  I'm  only 
mildly  interested.  As  far  as  the  franchise  is  concerned — I  don't 
give  a  single  solitary  damn  whether  I  ever  vote  or  not.  Every 
time  I  think  of  Charlotte  though,  it  puts  me  into  such  a  frenzy  that 
the  only  way  I  can  calm  myself  is  to  do  something  for  women  as 
a  whole.  So  you  might  as  well  be  prepared  for  that.  I'll  be 
always  getting  in  and  out  of  the  suffrage  movement,  or  boring  you 
and  myself  to  death  and  tiring  us  both  out." 

"  That's  a  horrible  future  to  contemplate,"  Dwight  admitted. 

"  And  it  adds  another  terror  to  matri Oh,  father,  here  you 

are!  This  is  Miss  Southward  Drake,  father,  and  Friday  night 
you're  going  to  Shayneford  where  she  lives,  to  be  present  when 
she  marries  me  on  Saturday." 


CHAPTER  VIII 

HESTER  and  her  mother  sat  in  the  garden.  It  was  lale  in  July, 
one  of  the  rare  hot  days  that  the  San  Francisco  summer  sometimes 
delivers.  Above  them  a  sky  of  an  intense  foaming  blue,  but  cloud 
less,  held  a  huge  blazing  jewel  of  sun.  Below,  the  great  mass  of 
pearl-white  city  dropped  in  precipitous  masses  from  hill  to  hill  until 
it  reached  the  bay.  Beyond,  the  water  stretched  blue  as  the  sky 
and,  over  it,  drifted  white  ferry-boats  that  might  have  been  the 
clouds  missing  from  that  sky.  The  garden,  thanks  to  Mrs.  Crowell's 
persistent  efforts,  had  turned  from  a  neglected  tangle  to  a  cared-f or, 
usable  beauty-spot.  The  box-hedge  that  surrounded  it  had  been 
clipped  to  symmetrical  proportions.  The  rose-bushes  that  dotted 
it  had  been  pruned  to  a  fuller  life.  Against  the  box  grew  great 
starry  masses  of  the  California  marguerite  and  against  these  high 
bushes  of  salmon-pink  geranium.  The  day  was  warm  enough  for 
Hester  to  wear  one  of  the  white  middy-suits  left  over  from 
Shayneford  days,  and  cool  enough  for  Mrs.  Crowell  to  throw  a 
white  woollen  shawl  over  her  shirt-waist.  Both  women  were  bare 
headed.  They  sewed. 

"  I  suppose,  mother,"  Hester  was  saying,  "  we  could  go  back  to 
Shayneford  now  if  you  wish.  I  don't  want  ever  to  live  there  again 
myself.  But  now  that  we've  respectably  established  my  marriage, 
widowhood,  and  motherhood,  I  wouldn't  mind  going  back  to  visit 
occasionally." 

Mrs.  Crowell  started.  She  looked  first  at  Hester's  face,  then  at 
the  baby  carriage  near.  But  that  last  look  was  merely  mechanical. 
The  hood  of  the  perambulator  was  pulled  close  against  the  blinding 
California  sunshine.  Mrs.  Crowell's  foot  was  on  one  of  the  car 
riage  wheels  but  she  did  not  move  it. 

"  I  don't  want  to  go  back,"  she  protested  in  a  deep  voice.  "  Never 
as  long  as  I  live.  I  love  it  out  here.  I  couldn't  bear  to  leave  it. 
It's  so  free  and  eo  beautiful.  There's  so  much  hope  in  the  air.  I 
don't  even  want  to  go  back  to  visit.  But  I  may  have  to  do  that," 
she  added  in  a  lower  tone.  "  I've  been  thinking  for  over  a  month 
now  that  I'd  like  to  put  the  place  in  Dwight's  hands  to  sell.  I 
might  have  to  go  back  to  attend  to  the  packing.  There  are  some 
things  I'd  want  to  bring  out  here — the  old  furniture  .and  silver 

490 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  491 

and  pictures.  But  there's  a  lot  I'd  like  to  get  rid  of.  I'd  have  to 
go  through  the  garret  myself  though;  nobody  else  could  do  that 
for  me.  Things  have  been  accumulating  for  nearly  forty  years 
there.  But,  oh,  there's  such  a  lot  of  truck  that  I  don't  want  to  have 
here.  It  doesn't  go.  Oh,  no,  I  don't  want  to  stay  there.  I  want 
to  live  here.  I  love  it  here,  I  love  it,"  she  asseverated  passionately. 
"  And  then,"  she  added,  "  do  you  suppose  I  could  leave  the  baby 
now  ? " 

"  I  hope  not,"  Hester  answered.  "  And  I'm  glad  you  feel  that 
way  about  California  and  the  West.  Nothing  would  make  me  go 
back.  My  boy  is  a  Native  Son  and  I  want  to  make  a  real  Cali- 
fornian  of  him."  Absently  she  arose  and  walked  towards  the 
centre  of  the  garden  between  the  hedges.  Absently  she  began  to 
pick  a  bunch  of  the  geranium  and  marguerites. 

Standing  amidst  the  rivalling  colour  of  the  flowers  and  in  the 
dazzling  pour  of  the  sunshine,  Hester  was  as  different  a  woman 
from  what  she  had  been  as  it  is  possible  to  imagine.  Physical 
maternity  had  filled  out  her  figure.  It  had  broadened  her  hips 
and  rounded  her  bosom.  Spiritual  maternity  had  written  a  whole 
new  history  on  her  face.  The  sallowness,  the  look  of  lassitude, 
had  gone.  Her  skin  had  so  quickened  that  the  freckles  stood  out 
on  it  like  sheer  gold.  Her  eyes  had  cleared  yet  they  seemed 
to  have  changed  to  a  deeper  blueness.  Her  teeth — and  they  had 
always  been  beautiful — revealed  themselves  now  between  lips  of  a 
firm  deep  pink.  Her  hair,  which  she  continued  to  wear  in  a 
braided  coronal,  pinned  in  front  with  the  little  silver  bow  and 
arrow,  sparkled  as  though  it  had  been  carved  from  massy  gold. 
She  moved  from  bush  to  bush  with  the  vigour,  the  decision,  the 
swiftness  of  perfect  health  and  absolute  happiness.  She  came  back 
after  a  while  to  her  seat,  her  arms  full  of  flowers.  She  put  these 
on  the  bench  beside  her  and  took  up  her  sewing. 

"  Think  of  the  joy  of  having  the  house  full  of  flowers  all  the  year 
round,"  she  commented.  "  Yes,  mother,  this  is  our  country  now. 
We " 

The  gate  clicked.    John  Smith  stepped  into  the  garden. 

"  I'm  here  just  for  the  day,"  he  explained  after  a  long  while. 
"  I  had  to  come  out  here  on  a  quick  trip  to  Los  Angeles.  Of 
course  I  had  to  get  to  San  Francisco  although  I've  got  to  turn 
right  round  and  go  back  to-night.  I  didn't  want  to  write  for  fear 
you  might  not  want  to  see  me.  And  I  had  to  see  you.  You  don't 
mind,  Hester  ? " 

"  No,"  Hester  said,  with  her  old-time  simple  frankness,  gilded 


492  THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS 

with  her  new  radiant  happiness.  "  I'm  glad.  I  should  never  have 
forgiven  you  if  you  hadn't  come.  Now  tell  me  about  everybody. 
First,  Southward  and  Dwight." 

"  Oh,  they're  disgracefully  happy.  They  enjoyed  the  South 
American  trip  enormously.  Southward  expects  the  baby — a  son, 
she  maintains — in  the  fall.  Of  course  you  know  that  though. 
She's  delighted  and  perfectly  well,  has  been  from  the  beginning. 
They're  going  to  stay  at  Long  Lanes  until  the  baby's  six  months 
old.  They've  done  wonders  with  the  old  place." 

"  Yes.  Southward's  been  sending  me  snap-shots  right  along. 
The  rooms  must  be  beautiful." 

"  Dwight  is  busy  all  the  time  doing  magazine-stuff — articles, 
mainly.  He  has  written  his  second  boys'  book.  The  first  is  a  great 
success,  you  know.  It's  been  out  since  the  spring." 

"  Yes,  he  sent  us  a  copy,"  Hester  murmured  again.  "  Now 
Edith  ?  "  she  continued.  "  Tell  me  about  her." 

John's  face  shadowed.  "  Not  such  good  news  there,"  he  said. 
"  Edith  isn't  at  all  well.  She's  cured  of  course.  But  she's  never 
quite  rallied  as  she  should.  We're  doing  everything  we  can  think 
of.  We  have  the  best  doctors,  specialists;  and  anything  more 
devoted  than  Rena's  nursing,  it  would  be  impossible  to  imagine. 
Yet  I  have  a  feeling  that  she's  losing  ground." 

"Oh,  I  am  so  sorry."  Hester's  lips  quivered;  but  her  voice 
vibrated  with  deep,  strong  feeling.  "  I  am  so  sorry.  Edith  has 
been  so  kind  all  her  life.  I  cannot  bear  to  think — and  all  of  us  so 
helpless.  Could  she  come  out  here?  I'd  do  anything  on  earth  to 
make  her  happy." 

John  shook  his  head.  "  You  couldn't  move  her.  It  would  only 
be  to  die.  She  never  says  anything.  But  I  know  she  clings  to  her 
own  surroundings.  She'd  rather  die  at  home." 

"  Oh,"  Hester  said  in  a  breaking  voice,  "  oh."  And  then  diversion 
came.  The  baby  cried.  Hester  controlled  herself  at  once. 

Mrs.  Crowell  lifted  the  hood  of  the  perambulator,  reached  under 
it.  With  quick  adroit  movements,  she  lifted  the  baby  out  and 
handed  him  to  Hester.  Hester's  hand  flew  eagerly  to  him.  She 
settled  him  in  her  lap;  and  then,  very  simply  unlaced  the  middy- 
blouse  and  gave  him  her  big  pearly  breast. 

John  watched. 

Hester's  son  was  a  magnificent  child.  His  hair  was  thick  and 
curling,  a  brilliant  coppery  red.  He  had  black  eyes  and  a  skin 
bursting  with  the  colour  that  California  paints  on  human  flesh. 
He  settled  himself  to  the  process  of  feeding  with  little  liquid  grunts 
of  approval.  One  hand,  infinitesimally  brawny,  pressed  Hester's 


THE  LADY  OF  KINGDOMS  493 

breast.  He  sucked  and  grunted;  dropped  the  nipple  to  stare  with 
round  black  eyes  at  his  grandmother;  returned  to  it;  sucked  hard 
and  grunted  again.  After  a  while,  he  dropped  away  and  his  eyelids 
drooped. 

"  I  think  I'll  put  him  in  his  own  bed  now,"  Mrs.  Crowell  de 
cided.  She  carried  him  into  the  house. 

A  silence  fell  on  the  two  in  the  garden.  "  I  see  that  you  really 
have  found  your  work,  Hester,"  John  said. 

"  Yes,"  Hester  agreed. 

"  I'm  sure  it's  the  right  work  for  you,"  John  went  on. 

"  Yes,  it  was  the  right  work,"  Hester  agreed  again,  "  I  have  no 
doubts  about  that  now." 

"  And  no  regrets  ?  "  John  questioned. 

"  No  regrets,"  Hester  answered. 

Another  silence  fell.  Hester  tucked  some  of  the  pink  geraniums 
in  her  hair. 

"  You  are  beautiful  now,  Hester,"  John  said.  "  You  have  ful 
filled  every  prophecy  that  I  made  of  you." 

"  Thank  you.  I  am  glad  you  think  so.  But  I've  paid."  Hester 
lifted  the  sweep  of  heavy  hair  which  fell  down  over  her  ear  and 
showed  the  white  at  her  temples.  "  You  can't  imagine  how 
dumfounded  I  was  when  I  saw  the  grey  coming  here.  And  after 
the  baby  was  born,  my  hair  began  to  come  out.  That  really 
troubled  me.  That's  my  single  vanity,  you  know — my  hair." 

"  You've  still  got  enough  lor  three  women,"  John  asserted. 

"  I've  still  got  enough  to  give  me  a  good  deal  of  trouble  doing 
it  when  there's  a  baby  round.  Do  you  remember  telling  me  that 
I  was  'paintable'? " 

"  Perfectly." 

"  It  may  amuse  you  to  know  that  a  woman-artist  here  on  'the 
hill  thinks  so  too.  She  has  done  our  picture — the  baby  and  me — 
in  the  garden  here.  It's  to  be  exhibited  in  New  York  in  the  fall." 

"  I'll  see  it,"  John  said.  After  another  silence,  "  I  suppose 
you'll  tell  me  about  all  this  sometime,  Hester." 

"  I  suppose  I  will,  John,"  Hester  answered. 

Another  silence  followed.  Mrs.  Crowell  broke  it.  She  appeared 
in  the  doorway,  holding  the  baby.  "  This  young  man  won't  go 
to  sleep  inside,"  she  complained  in  tones  that  were  full  of  pride. 
"  Suppose  you  let  him  lie  here  in  the  sun  a  little  longer,  Hester." 

"  All  right,"  Hester  agreed. 

Mrs.  Crowell  disappeared  into  the  house. 

The  boy  lay  on  his  pillow,  kicking  his  legs,  thrashing  his  arms, 
gurgling  and  bubbling. 


494 

John  rose. 

"  I'm  going  away  now.    Good-bye,  Hester." 
"  Good-bye,  John." 
They  shook  hands.    They  kissed. 

At  the  gate  John  turned.    "  Some  day,  Hester,  perhaps." 
Hester  did  not  answer.    She  did  not  hear.    She  was  looking  at 
her  son. 


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